


A Piece of Rebellion 2: Batman Boogaloo

by Mattecat



Series: A Piece of Rebellion [2]
Category: The LEGO Batman Movie (2017), The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, [wakes up in the middle of the night covered in sweat] lego batman gay, it's like the lego movie but with more trauma & mental illness, summary is subject to change cause I have no idea what I'm doing, the character tags are a mess how does the batman fandom get anything tagged properly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-25 20:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 50,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9842507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mattecat/pseuds/Mattecat
Summary: Some time after Good Cop and Bad Cop found the Piece of Resistance and saved the universe, Batman comes to them for advice on raising his son. This escalates into all sorts of adventures, with crime-fighting, hatemance, reality falling apart, and the cops' parents gettingveryworried.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey long story short I watched the lego batman movie and now I'm back in gay lego hell
> 
> for new readers: hey! this is a sequel to a fic I wrote a few years back, _a Piece of Rebellion,_ a lego movie au where good cop  & bad cop found the piece of resistance and saved the universe and stuff. it'd be helpful if you read that fic first, but if you don't want to, here's what you need to know:
> 
> 1\. good cop & bad cop found the piece of resistance and saved the universe, bad cop got his face erased and drawn back on again, and they lost their arm and got a robot prosthetic. idk if emmet'll show up in this fic but, emmet was also there, just not the special.  
> 2\. when falling into the infinite abyss of nothingness, instead of meeting finn and the man upstairs, good cop met the author of the story. as in, literally a self-insert of myself. I can't believe people actually like my writing honestly  
> 3\. I have some trans/nb headcanons that might appear later on, but we'll see if those characters show up.  
> 4\. maybe other stuff?? idk
> 
> now let's… Begin
> 
> quick edit: I SWEAR THERE'S GONNA BE BATMAN/JOKER IN THIS EVEN THOUGH THE JOKER DOESN'T APPEAR IN THE FIRST CHAPTER I SWEAR ON MY LEGO LIFE

Something was different. A shift in the atmosphere, an odd feeling that settled over him – Good Cop paused, still holding the mug in his hands, hot chocolate halfway to his bespectacled face. A wordless thought from Bad Cop confirmed that he had felt it, too.

Ma and Pa looked at him. "What's wrong?" Ma said.

"Erm," said Good Cop. "It's nothing, I don't think."

 _It's definitely something,_ Bad Cop said in their head, clearly annoyed.

"It's nothing we can do anything about, anyway."

His parents both looked worried, so Good Cop quickly continued. "I mean, it's just… hard to explain. It might be a good thing? You don't have to worry about it."

"You sure?" Pa asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Good Cop took a sip of his hot chocolate. "I'll let you know if anything changes."

They set up a meeting with Wyldstyle the next day.

* * *

"Wait," Wyldstyle said. "Let me get this straight. You're telling me that the entire universe is just a story?"

"Not _just_ a story," Good Cop said. He tapped his hand on the arm of his chair – his left hand, the one made out of flesh and blood. "It's a story. It's not any less real or anything, I think, but it means that…"

He frowned. "Means what?" Wyldstyle asked.

"I'm not sure." Good Cop shook his head. "Anyway, I've _met_ the Author. Back when I fell into the infinite abyss of nothingness." He shuddered at the memory. "And a while ago, when we were all at my parent's house, I asked them to… stop writing, and let us find our own happy endings. Once it felt like the story had ended."

"Huh," Wyldstyle said. "That's poetic."

He felt amusement from Bad Cop. "Whatever," Good Cop said. "My point is, I think they broke their promise. I think they've started writing again."

Wyldstyle leaned back in her chair. Her apartment was… sparsely decorated, surprisingly. Good Cop got the feeling that she didn't spend a lot of time in it, otherwise the Master Builder would have surely used her abilities to… do something, anyway.

"Is that a bad thing?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah?" said Good Cop. "Last time they wrote a story, a _ton_ of bad stuff happened, everyone almost died – Vitruvius _literally_ died –"

"I told you, don't worry about Vitruvius. I think he's immortal. That wasn't even the first time he's 'died' –" Wyldstyle made quotes in the air with her claw hands. "– before. He just wants an excuse to do the ghost thing."

"– _point is,_ it was a miserable time for everyone. I was miserable, you were miserable, even the Author _themself_ told me that they were depressed, and that their characters – that's us! – suffered for it! So why are they writing _this_ time?"

"Okay, yeah, you have a point. But…" Wyldstyle shrugged. "I guess I see it differently. Like, would we even exist if the Author didn't write about us?"

"That's terrifying, and I hate you for putting that idea in my head." Guilt washed over him, and Good Cop quickly backtracked. "I mean, sorry, I don't hate you. But it is terrifying."

 _This is really bothering you,_ Bad Cop said suddenly, the first thing he had said since they got there.

Good Cop made a face. "Yeah, it's bothering me. Sorry," he added to Wyldstyle. "I was –"

"– talking to Bad Cop, yeah, I'm used to it. What does he think about all this?"

 _Dunno,_ said Bad Cop. _I wasn't exactly –_

"You have to switch out to talk if you want her to hear you," Good Cop interrupted.

 _Right,_ said Bad Cop after a moment's pause, and Good Cop let himself retreat as their double-sided head spun around and Bad Cop appeared to face Wyldstyle.

Bad Cop pressed his right hand to his face, feeling the cold metal against his skin. It was comforting, even though his robot arm brought back faint memories of the trauma Good Cop had gone through. Bad Cop's face had trouble feeling things, sometimes, after being erased, and cold was one of the easier sensations.

"I wasn't 'xactly there," he said, his scribbled mouth slurring the words. "I only know what Good's told me. 's a little weird to think about."

Wyldstyle nodded. "But it's bothering him."

"Don' psychoanalyze me. We get enough of that from th' therapist." Bad Cop sighed. "Yeah, he's upset."

 _I'm not upset,_ Good Cop said. _Being bothered isn't the same as being upset._

"You're upset. 's fine. But I never met th' Author, so I see them differently." Bad Cop looked up at the ceiling. "'s like… we're their children, almost, 'cept in a weird religious way."

 _They're not a_ god. _Anyone can write a story. And if we're their children, they're a terrible parent._

"Yeah, but y' want to be there for your kids, y'know? I dunno, it can be hard t' say g'bye."

Batman spoke up: "Speaking of kids –"

He didn't get much farther than that, because Bad Cop had jumped up from his seat and picked up his chair to throw at him before realizing who it was. Wyldstyle was similarly surprised, though not to the point of attack. "Batman!" she shouted. "Don't scare us like that! How long were you here?"

"Just got here," Batman said casually. "You were talking about kids, right?"

Bad Cop put down the chair, though he didn't sit again. "In a way," he said. Good Cop was buzzing with anxiety in the back of his mind, and Bad Cop decided it would be for the best if they excused themselves.

"Well," he said, nodding to Wyldstyle, "thanks for hearing Good out. We'll be –"

"Wait, no, hang on." Batman made a vague gesture in Bad Cop's direction. "I wanted to… talk to you."

"What?"

"Both of you," he said, pointing at Bad Cop. "The cops, I mean. Not you, Wyldstyle."

Wyldstyle rolled her eyes. "Thanks."

"So, like… can we talk? In private?"

Bad Cop thought about it. Good Cop pressed for control, and Bad Cop let him, their head spinning around again. "Sure," said Good Cop. "But… why us? We don't exactly have, erm, good history."

Or any history, actually. Good Cop and Bad Cop had hardly interacted with Batman, even when they were working for Lord Business to track down Master Builders, and when they had gotten the Piece of Resistance stuck to their backs, Batman barely tolerated the concept of working together with them before stealing a spaceship and running off. The two of them didn't remember having a word of conversation with him, let alone in private.

Batman shrugged. "Yeah, well, you've got some history that's relevant to my, uh, current scenario, so… we gotta talk."

Good Cop shared a confused look with Wyldstyle, then nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Batman led Good Cop outside of Wyldstyle's apartment building, slinking into a dark alleyway with his cape wrapped around him. "Okay," he said in his low, gruff voice. "Here's good."

"What the heck," said Good Cop, then clapped his hands to his mouth. "Oh shoot, I didn't mean to say that out loud."

Batman groaned. "I get it, you don't like me."

"I like you," Good Cop said. " _Buuut_ … this is a little weird."

"Well, I don't like you, either."

"Erm…"

"Anyway," Batman said loudly. "I need some…" He grimaced. "…advice."

Good Cop raised an eyebrow. "Advice? From us?"

"No. From your parents."

Alarm bells started ringing in Good Cop's head. Despite Bad Cop's reassurance that there was nothing to be afraid of, Batman wouldn't do anything to hurt their parents – something about this didn't feel right.

"What do you want from them?" he said, a little too loudly.

"Calm down, I just want to talk to them."

 _Look, it's fine,_ Bad Cop said. _Batman's fine. Wyldstyle trusts him. He's been to our parent's house before. He's good._

Right. Good Cop took a deep breath. "You don't need my permission to do that," he said. "Why do you need me?"

"'Cause it's _weird,_ " Batman said. "They're like, the only parents I know! I can't go into their house and talk to them _alone._ "

Good Cop frowned. "And what do you want to talk to them about?"

Batman didn't respond for a moment. "Not important," he said.

" _Yeah,_ important."

"It's not."

"I'm not letting you talk to them if you don't tell me what it's about."

"You _just said_ I didn't need your permission."

"I changed my mind."

"Oh, come on –"

A loud ringtone interrupted them, harsh noise that Good Cop barely recognized as music. Batman groaned again and quickly turned away to dig his phone out of his suit. "Barb, c'mon, you know I'm busy –"

Good Cop averted his gaze and pretended he wasn't eavesdropping as Batman continued his conversation. "No, I _don't_ have to go to the dinner party – don't you dare pull the dad card on me, it's not about that – seriously? _Seriously?_ Yeah, exactly, they're fundraising for an _orphanage_ , none of the regulars are evil enough to crash it – Barbara, you could take down the Condiment King in your _sleep_ – why are you whistling."

Good Cop stopped whistling. "Sorry."

Batman glared at him and went back to the phone. "No, I'm meeting someone, and _no,_ it's not the Joker – first of all, it's called a _nemeship,_ not a _relationship,_ second, it's going fine, and _third,_ it's the cops. No, not the _police,_ the _cops,_ they quit the force after – you know that thing with Lord Business like, almost a year ago? It's those guys."

 _This is uncomfortable,_ Bad Cop said. Good Cop silently agreed.

"It's _not important,_ what _is_ important is that we're talking about something _important,_ and I'm not going to the dinner party."

Batman went quiet for a long moment, and Good Cop could hear the person – Barbara – on the other end, though he couldn't make out what she was saying. Finally, Batman said, "Fine," and hung up. Spinning around, he pointed at Good Cop.

"You two," he said. "You're coming to this dinner party."

"What the heck," Good Cop said. "That was supposed to be out loud this time."

"Har har. Do you have a tux you can wear?"

"We're not going to a dinner party with a bunch of strangers. We haven't left our parent's house in two weeks."

"You're out now, aren't you? If you don't have a tux, you can borrow one of mine. Or, _uhhh,_ Bruce Wayne's."

"I know your secret identity, Batman."

"No you don't."

Bad Cop switched in. "We're _not goin'_ t' your _dinner party,_ " he said. "An' that's _final._ "

He turned to walk away, but Batman's next words stopped him. "It would make my… _son_ really happy."

Bad Cop turned back around. "You 'ave a son," he said.

Batman looked uncomfortable. "Yeah," he said. "Adopted him little while ago. We've already saved Gotham City together. It was awesome. He'd be really excited to meet the people who saved the universe."

"An' _that's_ why y' want t' talk to our parents. Y' adopted a kid an' now you need parenting advice."

Batman sucked in a breath. "Yyyeah."

 _Oh my gosh,_ Good Cop said, exasperated. _Fine. We'll go to his dinner party._

Bad Cop hesitated. To be out in public, at a dinner party filled with strangers, when he had barely shown his face since Taco Tuesday…

_It's okay. I can handle it if you don't want to._

"Alright," said Bad Cop. "We'll go."

"Great." Batman took out his phone again and started typing on it. "Computer, bring the Batmobile over here. Let's go get you a tux."

Good Cop switched back in and took a deep breath. This was it; they were in another story, and the plot had started. Maybe he could refuse to participate, but… if Batman and his _son_ were involved, Good Cop didn't want to leave them to go through it alone.

And somehow, he had a strange feeling that this story would be different.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: I've never seen a non-lego batman movie. I don't know what a comic is. I only know lego batman in all his gay glory. I am the worst & the fakest fan.
> 
> SUPER QUICK EDIT: i don't think I've ever asked for comments in these lands but… comments are super appreciated. like, extremely. even if they're just "extra kudos" or something. it's good i love u

During the ride, Good Cop called Ma to let her know they wouldn't be home for dinner.

"Oh," she said. "Are you staying at Wyldstyle's place?"

"No, Ma," he said, raising his voice to be heard over Batman's music. "Batman invited us to a dinner party."

"Really!" Ma sounded happy, but there was a tinge of nervousness in her tone. This wasn't exactly usual behavior for her sons. "When do you think you'll be home?"

"I dunno. Late. We'll call if we're not back by midnight."

"Alright, dears. Have a good time!"

Good Cop smiled. "We'll try, Ma. Bye."

He hung up and leaned back in the seat, taking deep breaths. There wasn't really any reason to be anxious, right? The people at the dinner party probably wouldn't even recognize him – Gotham had been mostly left alone when they had been hunting down Master Builders, Lord Business deeming it too dangerous with all the crime. It's citizens had gone through Taco Tuesday blissfully oblivious to what was happening in Bricksburg.

 _Hey, Good?_ Bad Cop said.

"Yeah?" he responded, quietly enough so that Batman wouldn't hear him.

_Please stop thinking about Taco Tuesday._

Good Cop winced. "Sorry."

Batman glanced over at him. "Did you say something?"

"No."

"Alright. We're almost there."

Good Cop peered out the window. The Batmobile, now airborne, was rapidly approaching Wayne Manor on Wayne Island, and Batman steered them into a cave beneath it.

A robotic voice spoke up. "What's the password?"

"Iron Man sucks," Batman said.

"Who's Iron Man?" Good Cop asked.

"Nobody. Get ready to jump out."

Good Cop unbuckled his seatbelt while Batman brought the vehicle to a stop, and then the seat dropped out from beneath him. Batman landed on his feet. Good Cop landed on his face.

"Computer!" Batman shouted out to the cave. "I'm home!"

Good Cop was picking himself off the ground when another voice rang out. "Hi, Batdad!" He looked up to see a kid land in front of the two of them, grinning up at Batman. The kid looked at Good Cop through his goggles, his eyes big and bright, and tilted his head. "Hey, who's this?"

"Hey, Dick." Batman grinned. "This is Good Cop and –"

"Just Good Cop for now," Good Cop interrupted, rubbing his face.

"What? What about –"

"He doesn't want to come out right now. You know." Good Cop motioned at his face.

Batman still looked confused, but he shrugged. "Alright, whatever. _Anyway,_ this is Good Cop, and he's coming with us to the dinner."

"Cool!" Dick's grin got even bigger. "It's nice to meet you, Good Cop! Where're you from? How'd you meet my dad?"

"Erm," said Good Cop, "we, well, it was…"

 _You might as well tell the truth,_ Bad Cop said. _I mean, if he's asking._

Good Cop considered it for a moment. "We met through my old boss," he said.

_Oh, come on, that's barely the truth._

"Okay, it's way more complicated than that," Batman said. "You see, Dick –"

"Can we _please_ not talk about how we met?" Good Cop said loudly. "It was a _really_ miserable experience for everyone and I don't want to talk about it."

An awkward silence descended between them, until Batman cleared his throat. "Let's get a tux for you," he said.

"Ooo!" Dick jumped up and started walking beside Batman as he walked away, Good Cop following behind. "Are we going to do a tuxedo dress-up party?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please, Padre?"

"You can't call me 'Padre' every time you want me to do something –"

Good Cop watched them, frowning. So this was Batman's son. The kid obviously cared about his dad a lot, and the feeling must be mutual – Batman had cared enough to ask for parenting advice, after all. Was it just the two of them, all alone in the Batcave and Wayne Manor? Was there a mom involved? Good Cop knew that Batman and Wyldstyle had been dating, but they had broken up shortly after Taco Tuesday…

"Fine," Batman said. " _You_ can have a tuxedo dress-up party, but _I'm_ going to get Good Cop a tux _without_ a party. Wait with Alfred, I'll be back soon."

"Okay!" Dick did a cartwheel off the walkway and darted up towards the ceiling until Good Cop couldn't see him anymore. He squinted into the darkness, wondering how a kid like that got so good at gymnastics, only for Batman to clear his throat loudly.

"Hey," he said. "Let's get a move on."

Good Cop took another deep breath and followed Batman down the walkway.

* * *

"Seriously," Good Cop said, while Batman dug through one of "Bruce Wayne's" closets. "We know your secret identity. You don't have to hide it from us."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to hide your ' _us_ ' from these guys, but you are." Batman pulled out an utterly generic tuxedo and tossed it towards him. "Here, try this on."

Good Cop took it and shook his head. "Bad Cop doesn't want to show his face to all these strangers."

"Why not?"

Instead of Good Cop answering, Bad Cop switched in and stared at him. Surprisingly, Batman didn't avert his eyes from Bad Cop's scribbled face.

"Okay," Batman said. "So you got some battle scars. So what? You can tell stories about them."

"Th' day I got my face erased was the most traumatic day of our life," Bad Cop said. "I don' want t' talk about it t' everyone who asks."

"Then make up stories about it, like the Joker does."

"Who's the Joker?"

Batman grinned and struck a pose, his hand on his hips, staring dramatically at the ceiling. "My _greatest enemy,_ " he said.

 _That's kind of weird,_ said Good Cop. _Let's try and look into it later._

"Okay," said Bad Cop. "Point is, I don' want t' explain my face t' everyone at the dinner party."

Batman shrugged. "Alright, whatever. Go try on that tuxedo."

Good Cop switched back in and went into the bathroom to change. Maybe he didn't like Batman as much as he thought he did.

The tuxedo fit well enough. Good Cop looked at himself in the mirror, frowning. He looked tired. He felt tired. He and Bad Cop didn't technically _need_ to sleep, but if one of them was out for too long, they started feeling drowsy. If the dinner party lasted too long, Good Cop might have to take a nap when they got home.

 _Give me a smile, Good,_ Bad Cop said.

"You can't see me. How do you know I'm not smiling?"

_C'mon, Good._

Good Cop sighed, then forced a grin. It didn't feel real, but Bad Cop didn't comment, and Good Cop figured it was acceptable.

The fake smile was still plastered across his face when he walked out of the bathroom. "How do I look?" he asked, only to realize that the room was empty. Good Cop let the smile drop. "Alright," he said. "Fine. We'll just wait here alone, I guess. Not like I'll be able to find my way anywhere in this mansion. At least the office tower had maps."

He regretted mentioning Lord Business' office tower the moment it left his mouth. Groaning, he went to the bed and fell facedown on top of it.

There was a knock on the door. Good Cop quickly got off the bed. "Yeah?" he said. That wouldn't be Batman, he didn't think Batman would be the type to not barge in.

An unfamiliar woman opened the door, with dark skin and red hair, dressed in a fairly simple evening dress. "Hey," she said. "Batman told me you'd be in here. I'm Barbara Gordon, police commissioner."

She stuck out her hand for a handshake. Good Cop took it cautiously. "I'm Good Cop," he said. "I'm, erm, not actually a cop anymore, that's just my name."

Barbara nodded. "Yeah, I know who you are."

Good Cop tensed, and he felt Bad Cop's trepidation in their head. Batman hadn't even told his _son_ who they were, so if Barbara knew –

"Don't worry," Barbara said. "We're cool. I don't know that much about you, but I know you quit working for President Business and saved the universe. As long as you're trying to better yourself now, you're fine with me."

"Alright," said Good Cop, and he managed to smile. Still fake. "Erm, how much _do_ you know? Gotham wasn't the most affected by Business' plans."

"Just that you and your partner worked as the head of Business' super-secret police force, hunting down Master Builders, but you turned against him on Taco Tuesday and stopped his plans. Batman doesn't talk about it much." She shrugged. "I'm kind of surprised he invited you, actually. I haven't met any of his Master Builder friends."

Good Cop chuckled. "Well, we're not Master Builders _or_ his friends, so…"

 _You just used 'we,'_ Bad Cop said.

Good Cop's smile faded. "Oh, shoot."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Good Cop said quickly. "I was just, erm…"

"Talking to your partner?" Barbara smiled. "Bad Cop, right? Is he going to show his face?"

"Nope."

 _Maybe,_ Bad Cop said.

"I mean – maybe? Wait, what?"

_Not at the dinner party, though. Maybe after._

"Okay." Good Cop refocused on Barbara. "It's just going to be me at the dinner party, but Bad Cop might come out after."

"Alright, cool. Let's go wait for the others."

Barbara led Good Cop through the enormous manor effortlessly. She was clearly familiar with the layout. Did she live here? Was _she_ the mom? Or did she just visit often?

Good Cop sighed. Maybe he should stop being so curious about Batman's family. Batman had come to them for advice, though…

They reached the entry hall at the same time as Dick and Batman – sorry, Dick and _Bruce Wayne_ , he had taken off his cowl and looked especially grumpy. Barbara waved to them as they walked over. "Hey, Bruce! Took you long enough! Are you ready to have a great time?"

"Yeah!" Dick hopped up and down. Bruce groaned dramatically.

"Excuse me, Master Bruce –" Good Cop spun around to face the new person, an older man with a balding head, carrying a set of car keys. The man frowned at him. "Master Bruce," he repeated. "Who is this?"

"Erm," said Good Cop.

Bruce put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump. "Would it kill you to calm down for like, five seconds?" To he man, he said, "Alfred, this is Good Cop. Guy who helped me save the universe."

"Helped _you?_ " Good Cop said indignantly.

"Whatever. He's coming with us to the dinner party."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Good Cop felt anxiety creep up on him. Why had they _ever_ agreed to this? Now he was going to a dinner where he didn't know anyone except Bat –  _Bruce,_ and Bruce didn't even _like_ him.

"Okay, guys," Barbara said. "Let's all get in the car. We're going to be late if we don't leave soon."

Good Cop steeled himself. It could be worse. At least social awkwardness and potential embarrassment was the worst he would face. It wasn't as if there would be any actual _danger._

* * *

"They're late," the Joker grumbled, staring through binoculars at the entrance to Wayne Manor. "What's _taking_ them so long?"

Harley patted his back. "Aw, don't worry, Boo-boo. Things have been going great lately, haven't they? Batman doesn't _know_ you're planning a surprise for him."

"What if he doesn't _appreciate_ it?" The Joker lowered the binoculars and slumped forward against the rock he was hiding behind. "Maybe it should have been bigger, something on the level of 'taking-over-the-city.' This is just a run-of-the-mill kidnapping!"

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it. When was the last time Bruce Wayne got kidnapped? Batman will really enjoy the thought you've put into kidnapping his roommate."

"Maybe you're right. I don't think I _ever_ remember Bruce Wayne getting kidnapped. I wonder if there's something behind that."

Harley patted his back some more, then peeked out at the manor. "Oh, Boo-boo! They're coming!"

The Joker had his binoculars back up in an instant, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted the car out of the gate. "Yes! Time for your surprise, my greatest enemy! Harley, get in position! We're going to give Batman a night he'll _never_ forget!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently like 5 other lego fanfic writers have had the idea of the joker kidnapping bruce wayne but. whatever. here's chapter 3

Dick sat next to Good Cop as they all got in the car. "So what was saving the universe like?" he asked.

"Well," Good Cop began, "it was –"

 _Don't say it was traumatizing,_ Bad Cop said.

"It… was…"

_C'mon, he's just a kid._

Good Cop nodded. "It was… difficult," he said to Dick. "I didn't think we'd succeed, some of the time. It was scary."

"Wow," Dick said, looking up at him with wide eyes. "But you did it"

"Yeah," said Good Cop, and he managed a real smile. "I guess we did."

Bruce grabbed a remote as Alfred started the engine. "Let's check out the news," he said, turning on a screen that Good Cop had somehow failed to notice when he first got in.

"There's a TV in here?" Good Cop said in surprise.

"Yeah. That's what being super rich gets you." Bruce flipped through a couple channels, then settled back in his seat to watch. Good Cop stared out the window, tuning out the television. At one point, a mention of "business" caused him to tense, but when he looked at the screen, they were talking about the stock market.

Before they made it off the island, Alfred slammed on the brakes. Bruce, the only one not wearing a seatbelt, tumbled forward and hit his head against the front seat. "Ow!"

Barbara pulled him back. "You okay?"

"I'm _fine_. Alfred, what the heck?"

"Sorry, cat in the road."

"Alright, just –"

The car suddenly sped backwards, almost sending Bruce flying forward again if Barbara hadn't grabbed him. "Okay, _seriously,_ dude –"

"Upon further examination, it isn't a cat, but a bomb made to _look_ like a cat."

"It's a _what!_ " Good Cop yelped.

The cat-bomb exploded. It wasn't a very big explosion – the car was already far away enough that they barely felt it – but it was _loud_ , and Good Cop clapped his hands over his ears.

 _Look on the bright side,_ Bad Cop said, while Good Cop closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths. _Now we won't have to go to the dinner party._

"Not funny, Bad!" Good Cop hissed.

_I'm not joking. This might actually be an improvement._

Dick climbed over him to look out the window. "Someone's attacking Wayne Manor! Looks like Harley Quinn!"

"And where Harley Quinn is, the Joker isn't far behind." Bruce quickly climbed over the seat behind him and fell into the back. "Bet he was waiting for 'Bruce Wayne' to leave before going to see his _greatest enemy_. Dick, Babs, go get Robin and Batgirl to deal with Harley. Good Cop, you stay here with Alfred."

"Yes, Padre!" Dick was grinning broadly, which seemed out of place considering the situation. "Come on, Miss Barbara!"

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess," she said to Bruce. "You're going to go get Batboy?"

"Bat _man._ "

"Batguy?"

"BatMAN."

"Batdad?" Dick suggested.

"…acceptable. Now get moving!"

Dick and Barbara quickly got out of the car and darted away, and shortly afterwards, Batman burst out of the trunk and followed them.

Through the window, Good Cop watched them disappear into the darkness, then sighed and slumped down in his seat. After a few moments of silence and taking deep breaths, his anxiety was starting to fade – Batman was a superhero, after all, surely he could handle whoever the Joker was.

"Don't worry," Alfred said from up front. "They can handle this."

"Yeah," said Good Cop. "I figured."

"While we wait, why not get to know each other?" Alfred turned to face him and smiled. "My name is Alfred Pennyworth. Is Good Cop a nickname, or…?"

"Kind of. My real name is Gilligan. Our last name's still Cop, though."

 _Good and Bad might as well be our real names,_ Bad said. _I think more people use them than they do Gilligan and Malcolm._

Good Cop shrugged. "You can just call me Good Cop, though. Only our parents call me Gilligan."

"Very well, Good Cop. If you don't mind me asking, why did Batman invite you to this dinner?"

Alfred's question made Good Cop uneasy, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was just the suspense of waiting for Batman and the rest to return. "I don't really know," he said. "He just wanted to talk to our parents, I guess because he knows we were adopted. He said he wanted parenting advice."

"Not surprising," said Alfred. "May I ask a personal question?"

"…sure?"

"You keep referring to yourself in the plural. Why is that?"

 _Oh, shoot,_ said Bad Cop. _I wasn't paying attention, sorry, I should've caught you._

Good Cop took another deep breath. "Well…"

_Might as well tell him. We'll look suspicious if we don't. Want me to tell him?_

"No, it's fine," Good Cop said. "I – we have two faces. I'm Good Cop –" He tapped his own face. "– and my partner is Bad Cop." He tapped the back of his helmet. "I'm not sure if he… Hey Bad, do you want to…?"

_Sure._

"Okay. Just… please don't stare too much," he said to Alfred, who looked… curious, if confused. "Some… stuff happened on Taco Tuesday, and –"

_Good Cop._

"– alright, here he is."

Their head spun around, and Bad Cop's scribbled face appeared. Alfred blinked, but didn't flinch, and he politely averted his gaze.

"I see," he said. "It's nice to meet you, Bad Cop. Is that a nickname, also?"

Bad Cop shrugged. "I guess. Name's Malcolm. Everyone calls me Bad Cop. Nice t' meet y' too."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but judging by your behavior earlier, I'm assuming you don't want to show yourself at the dinner."

"Yeah. Don' wan' t' explain our… 'situation' to a bunch of strangers."

"Did you know, you're the second pair of people I've met in your, as you call it, situation?"

Bad Cop's mouth dropped open. " _Uhh,_ wha'?"

 _Oh my gosh,_ Good Cop said. _Did he just say what I thought he said?_

Good Cop and Bad Cop had only ever heard of one other pair in the same body, and that was their biological mothers, who had left them in foster care before they were old enough to remember. They knew nothing else about them – they hadn't even known there were two of them until recently.

"We've never –" Bad Cop struggled to find words, while Good Cop's stream of thought was almost incomprehensible. "We didn' even know other people like us _existed_ 'til a few months back. Wha' were –" He swallowed and tried to enunciate clearly. "What were they like?"

Alfred furrowed his brow. "It was a very long time ago. They were scientists, both women, only a few years younger than myself. The head of their lab claimed to work with technology the likes of which had never been seen before, which, of course, attracted a lot of villains interested in taking that technology for themselves."

Bad Cop's heart was pounding. "An' y' _met_ them?"

"Briefly. Bruce made a donation to repair the lab after some villains trashed the place. I delivered the check, and was directed to 'the Misses.' They never gave me their names, just thanked me, took the check, and sent me off." Alfred smiled. "It was… memorable, though. Clearly, since I'm still remembering it after nearly fifty years."

Bad Cop leaned back in his seat and waited for Good Cop's reaction.

_Maybe we should ask Vitruvius about –_

"No," Bad Cop said forcefully, forgetting for a moment that Alfred was there. "Sorry, talking t' Good."

 _I know it's hard,_ Good Cop said, _but he knew them the best. Maybe he'd know why they would abandon us like that._

"I don' _want_ to know," Bad Cop muttered. "We don' even know if they're th' same people as – let's forget we heard about this."

"Excuse me, do you mind waiting here for a bit?"

Bad Cop looked up. "Huh?"

Alfred opened the car door and stood up, peering into the darkness. "I thought I heard something. I'm going to investigate. I won't go far."

"…alright."

Alfred walked a few steps away, looking around. Bad Cop watched him through the window, feeling nervous. Wayne Manor was under attack, for crying out loud! Sure, Batman could handle it, probably, but Bad Cop didn't know that for sure.

He looked away from the window to check the time. Past eight. When he looked back out the window, Alfred was gone.

"Uh-oh," he said.

 _What happened?_ Good Cop asked.

"Hopefully nothin'." Bad Cop opened the door and stepped out cautiously. "Hello? Alfred?"

No response. Bad Cop heard a distant explosion – not far away enough for him to feel comfortable. He took another step away from the car.

He _felt_ more than _heard_ the movement – Bad Cop acted on instinct, slamming his robot hand into the face of the person sneaking up behind him and doing a backflip onto the top of the car.

At least, that was what he tried to do, but someone grabbed his leg mid-jump and slammed him into the ground. Lying on his back Bad Cop groaned in pain and closed his eyes.

"Rule number _one,_ " an unfamiliar voice said. "You do _not_ hit my girlbuddy! Where is Bruce Wayne?"

Bad Cop looked up to see a green-haired man in white face paint and messy red around his lips glaring down at him, with a woman in red-and-black pigtails rubbing her face next to him. His head was spinning, and they kept going in and out of focus. "Not here," he said. "Hey, Good…?"

_Don't worry, buddy, I can handle this._

Good Cop switched in and gave the two people what he hoped was a friendly smile. " _Heeey,_ fellas –" he began, only to cut himself off with a wince of pain. "Ow, you really did a number on me!"

The man's eyebrows went up. "Whoa, you have two faces? Dang! Hey Harley, we should tell Two-Face about this!"

Good Cop's eyes widened. "You know someone else with two faces?!"

"What? Nah, Two-Face has one face, but half of it got really messed up, like _really_. Anyway, seriously –" He leaned down close to Good Cop, a sinister grin on his face. "Where is Bruce Wayne?"

"Wow, erm, okay." Good Cop was trembling, but he did his best to keep himself together. "We don't know."

"Not good enough!"

"Really, we don't know!" His smile sliding off his face, Good Cop felt sweat on his forehead. "The others took him away from here, because of the bomb. Alfred was supposed to drive us home, but –"

"Oh, _great._ Remind me to have a word with Catwoman."

"Will do, sugarplum," said the woman.

"So!" The man straightened back up and started walking in slow circles around where Good Cop lay. "Bruce Wayne's not here, the butler's _way_ to feisty for us to contain… we gotta act fast before Batman shows up, we want him to have some _fun_ tonight, don't we?"

"Oh boy," said Good Cop. "I do not like where this is going."

"New plan, Harley Quinn!" The man spun around and pointed down at Good Cop dramatically. "We kidnap this total stranger – strang _ers?_ Whatever – and give Batman the greatest kidnapping-rescue experience he's ever had!"

"You're going to _kidnap_ me?!" Panic seized Good Cop's heart. "Oh no oh no oh no –"

The woman, Harley, laughed. "You're really freaking out, aren't you?"

Good Cop started gasping for breath, and Harley's expression softened. "He really _is_ freaking out."

"Alright, alright, up –" The man grabbed Good Cop's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Calm down, it's not like Batman's gonna let anything _bad_ happen to you. C'mon, let's get you tied up –"

Good Cop punched him and started running.

He made it a few feet before he was tackled by a figure in a purple jumpsuit, who swiftly pulled his hands behind his back and tied them together, too fast for him to react. "You're me– _ot_ going anywhere!"

"Weak, Catwoman! You need to work on your puns."

Catwoman stuck her tongue out and hoisted Good Cop over her shoulder. "What _meow_ , Joker?"

 _Finally,_ Good Cop managed to put it together. _This_ was the _Joker_ , Batman's _greatest enemy_ – not that he knew what that meant, other than "a very bad day for Good Cop." He swallowed. "I don't suppose we can negotiate?" he said, his voice coming out in a squeak.

The Joker grinned again. "Nope, sorry! You're coming with us. Harley, go get Poison Ivy. Catwoman, let's move out!"

While he was being carried away, Good Cop saw the Joker blowing a kiss to Wayne Manor.

"See you soon, my greatest enemy!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, outlining the fic: ok so this is going to happen in this chapter and this is going to happen in another chapter. got it?  
> me, actually writing the fic: nah
> 
> anyway this chapter is fairly long. I started out with a goal of writing 2000 word chapters but then I changed my mind and decided to aim for 2500 words a chapter instead aaaand then didn't update for a few weeks. it's cool! I'm gonna try to finish the next chapter sooner though.
> 
> to repeat my previous disclaimer: I have never seen a non-lego batman film and I'm mainly a marvel comics guy (when I actually read comics, that is). im considering finding a way to watch the batman animated series bc ppl have told me it's Good but like. I know Nothing about batman & family in any of their non-lego incarnations.
> 
> as always, comments are 100% appreciated. i've been meaning to respond to all of them but I'm very bad at it. well, new chapter, new start! hope you enjoy!

They didn't even get to Wayne Manor before running into Poison Ivy, who managed to keep them tied up for a while.

"This has got to be a distraction!" Batgirl shouted, struggling to untangle herself. "We need to get out of this! Where did she _go?_ "

"Uh, guys?" Robin said, his legs tangled up in vines. "I think this is _actual_ poison ivy. Boy, I kind of wish my costume had pants now!"

Batgirl inhaled sharply. "Oh no, Robin –"

Batman jumped over to him and cut the plants apart. "Don't worry, we'll get you some lotion or something. Now c'mon, we gotta get to Wayne Manor!"

With some difficulty, they all freed themselves from the vines, and ran the remainder of the way to Wayne Manor, Poison Ivy being nowhere in sight.

The Joker wasn't there.

"Could he be hiding?" Robin asked, opening up every door in the entryway.

"Nah, he's definitely not the type." Batman thought for a moment. "Unless he is. Hey Joker, where are you?!"

"Uh-oh," said Batgirl. "Batman –"

"Joker, if you don't come out, I'm not going to hate you anymore!"

Batgirl rolled her eyes. "Batman, seriously!" she said loudly. "What if all this was a distraction to get us away from the car? We have to go back!"

"Hang on, we've gotta get the poison ivy off our costumes –"

"Batman! Alfred and Good Cop could be in danger!"

"Pfft." Batman shook his head. "Alfred can handle himself."

"Uh, can Good Cop?"

"Yeah, sure. Look, he'll be fine. It's not like the Joker would kidnap him."

* * *

"The Joker kidnapped Good Cop," Alfred said when they got back to the car. Robin gasped.

"No he didn't," Batman said immediately.

"He left a note." Barbara, temporarily changed out of her costume, took the paper from Alfred and examined it.

Batman didn't even look at it. "That could be anyone."

"It's signed with his name."

"Probably an imposter."

"And a lipstick stain." Barbara showed him the red kiss mark.

"Seriously? He's such a _weirdo_ –"

"I apologize, sir," Alfred said. "I should have stayed with the car. I left when I heard a noise, and Catwoman tied me to a tree. When I was able to free myself, they were gone."

Batman groaned. "Great. I guess we're not going to the dinner party, 'cause now we gotta rescue Good Cop. Barbara, can you call –"

"You're going to the dinner party," said Barbara.

"What!"

Barbara sighed. "The orphanage really wants you to be there," she said. "I mean, they want Bruce Wayne to be there, but you can't be in two places at once. Robin and I will rescue Good Cop."

"No!" Batman crossed his arms and glared at her. "The Joker is _my_ greatest enemy, not yours!"

"I'm sure he'll understand," Robin chirped up. "Don't worry, Batdad! Your nemeship is safe with us!"

" _Uuuuuugggggghhhhhhhhh_ –"

"No complaining," Barbara said sternly. "Get back in the car, Batman, you're going to be late. Robin, we need to hurry – who knows what the Joker is doing!"

* * *

"You kidnapped us and now you're robbing an ice cream shop," said Good Cop.

The Joker rolled his eyes, pointing a comically oversized gun at the poor man behind the counter while Harley Quinn raided the freezer. "I know that! So what flavor do you want?"

" _Why_ would I care about ice cream when I'm being _kidnapped!_ "

"Hey, you were freaking out, I thought this would get you to calm down!"

"Of _course_ I'm freaking out, I'm being _kidnapped!_ "

"We've gone over that already! Pick something or I'm just going to get you mint chocolate chip, which, as everyone knows, is objectively the worst flavor."

"Hey," the ice cream man began, only to shut up when the Joker shot a hole in the wall behind him, barely missing his head.

 _Good, are you sure you can handle this?_ Bad Cop said. _I can –_

"I'm _fine,_ " Good Cop hissed. "Hey," he said loudly, "you know what would _really_ make me calm down? If you put that gun away and stopped threatening people for ice cream!"

"Yeah, you're getting mint chocolate chip. Hey, ice cream man, make it happen!"

A few minutes later, Good Cop was sitting in the back of the Joker's getaway car, surrounded by cartons of ice cream, with a cup of mint chocolate chip beside him. His hands were still tied behind his back. Somehow, the sheer absurdity of the situation helped him to get a grip on himself, even if he wasn't exactly calm. What kind of villain kidnapped someone, got them ice cream, and didn't even untie them so they could eat it?

Harley's head popped up over the seat in front of him, grinning. "You comfortable, Jekyll 'n Hyde?"

Bad Cop switched in almost instantaneously. "Call us tha' again and we're throwin' ourselves out th' window."

"Well, what are your names?"

"Good Cop 'n Bad Cop."

"Wait, you're cops?"

Bad Cop sighed. "No. We're retired. Those're just our names. Nicknames. Whatever."

"Alright." Harley leaned on the seat and rested her head on her hand. "So, is there a story behind your face?"

 _Oh no,_ said Good Cop. _Do you want me to –_

"Shavin' accident," said Bad Cop.

_What._

"Yep," he continued, staring directly at Harley Quinn's bemused face. "Whole thing came clean off. Hospital 'ad t' reconstruct everything."

"You're lying," said Harley.

"You're right. Fell off my motorcycle an' faceplanted on th' road."

_Bad, what are you doing._

"Got too close t' a dragon's flame."

_I don't think she believes you._

"Shark attack."

_Stop._

"My old boss wiped it off."

_Oh gosh –_

"Okay, enough." Harley laughed. "This is entertaining, but we're almost there. Save some made-up stories for the rest of the night."

"One of those wasn' made up," said Bad Cop.

"The motorcycle one, right?"

Good Cop took control before Bad Cop could respond. "Could we please stop talking about this?" he said, his voice strained. "I would rather not talk about the worst day of our lives with the people who kidnapped us!"

"Alright," said Harley. "Anyway, we're here now!"

The car slowed down abruptly, sending some of the topmost ice cream cartons tumbling forward. Good Cop leaned forward to peer out the window; they were outside a run down warehouse, the windows boarded up. The car pulled into a narrow alleyway beside it and came to a stop. Harley ducked down behind the seat and exited the car, while Good Cop waited for someone to let him out. He didn't have to wait long – the trunk popped open, and Good Cop swiveled his head around to see who was there.

"Up and at 'em!" the Joker said with a grin. "We've got a busy night ahead of us! I've got to set up the traps for Batman, and you've got to sit and look pretty."

"Or else what?" Good Cop said sarcastically.

"Well, if you won't sit _pretty_ … you'll be the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly!" The Joker burst out laughing. "Get it? _Get it?_ "

Good Cop and Bad Cop mutually made the decision to not acknowledge the joke.

"Okay, okay, now get out of the car."

Awkwardly, since his hands were still tied behind his back, Good Cop scooted to the edge of the car and hopped down onto the ground. "So," he said, "we're just going to sit in this dump until Batman comes to rescue us?"

"That's the idea!" The Joker said cheerfully.

"Yeah," said Good Cop. "What if he doesn't come? We're not exactly friends. He might figure we're not worth the effort."

To his dismay, the Joker dismissed his concern. "Oh, Batman won't want to leave anyone in peril! He'll be here sure enough. Harley, get these guys inside."

"You got it!" Harley took Good Cop's shoulder and led him to the door. Good Cop sighed and prepared himself for a very long night.

* * *

He ended up sitting in the empty warehouse tied to a chair and doing nothing for a long time.

Harley tried multiple times to engage them in conversation, but Good Cop felt too tired to focus on conversations. He actually dozed off a couple times, which surprised him and Bad Cop both. After Good Cop woke himself up from a nightmare, Bad Cop took over to keep themselves awake.

The Joker came back in about half an hour later, looking pleased with himself. He began to look less and less pleased after another hour into the wait. "Where is Batman?" he complained. "He should be here by now!"

"Dunno," Harley Quinn said, toying with her hair with an utterly bored expression. "Maybe they were right and he really isn't coming to rescue them."

The Joker rolled his eyes. "When has Batman ever _not_ come to rescue someone?"

Harley was about to answer when a sudden ringing sound startled everyone in the room.

Once he had recovered from the initial shock, Bad Cop realized it was coming from his phone, buzzing in his pocket. "Oh boy," he said. "Better let me answer – hey, _hey!_ "

Harley dug the phone out of his pocket, despite his struggling. "Hey, sugarplum, catch!"

The Joker nearly fumbled the catch, barely managing to hold onto it. Once he got a look at the caller ID, his eyes widened. "This is your _dad_ calling? Why is your dad calling you?"

"Doesn' _matter,_ " Bad Cop snarled, while Good Cop started to panic in the back of his mind. "Jus' give it _back_ t' me!"

"Alright, alright, whatever," the Joker said, and Bad Cop let go of the tension he'd been holding, thankful that at least something was going right.

The next moment, all the tension came back when the Joker swiped to answer the call. "Might as well tell him what you're up to, first! _Hello,_ 'Pa,' I'm afraid your sons are a little 'tied up' at the moment!"

Bad Cop felt pure rage flood through him, and he jerked forward against the ropes holding him to the chair. " _Put tha' down!_ "

"Who am I? Oh, you're not from Gotham, are you? Perhaps you've heard of Batman's greatest enemy?"

"Give it _back_ y' _oversized clown!_ "

"I think most clowns are that size," Harley commented.

"Why yes, I did, in fact, kidnap your sons! How –" The Joker paused. "Wait, what are you saying? Is this the dialogue from _Taken?_ No, I mean the third one – of _course_ I'm talking about the first one, the sequels sucked! But seriously, are you quoting the dialogue from _Taken_ at me?"

Bad Cop strained against his bonds with all his strength.

"I _said_ –"

He could feel the rope around his right arm starting to give.

"– give it _back!_ "

His robot arm ripped free of the ropes with a spike of pain through his shoulder. The momentum sent his chair tipping to the side and falling over, sending Bad Cop to the floor. He wasted no time in working himself free, ripping the remaining ropes off him and getting to his feet.

"Oh boy," said the Joker. "Listen, I'm gonna have to put you on hold."

Bad Cop lunged for the Joker, who sidestepped him easily and shot a glare at Harley. "Hey, girlbuddy! Why aren't you doing anything?"

Harley shrugged. "Figured I should stay out of it and, y'know, keep a lookout for _Batman._ "

Something about the way she emphasized Batman's name gave Bad Cop pause, before Good Cop frantically reminded him that the Joker still had their phone and he snapped out of it.

The Joker frowned. "What are you implying?" he said, holding the phone up above Bad Cop's head.

"I'm not implying anything! I'm just _saying_ that one of us has to be ready for the main event, here."

"Hey, _I'm_ okay with Batman fighting other bad guys, so – ow! Let go of my arm!"

"I'll let go 'f your arm if y' _give me back my phone!_ "

Harley crossed her arms. "Have you ever talked to him about it?"

"Technically, yes!"

"I mean, _after_ he confessed?"

That pulled even Good Cop's attention away from the phone, and Bad Cop stopped yanking on the Joker's arm long enough to give him a quizzical look. "Confessed wha'?"

"Oh, nothing," the Joker said, trying to pull his arm away. "Only that I'm his greatest enemy and he hates me forever. What we've got is something special, y'know?"

Bad Cop considered that for a moment, then decided there were more important issues to worry about and started climbing up the Joker to make another grab for the phone.

"Guys, guys!" Harley said loudly. "Break it up! Cops, you gotta get back on your chair, and Joker – just give them back their phone, c'mon. Batman could be here _any minute_ now."

"I'll give them back their phone when they get off me!"

" _Darn_ y' nasty little –"

There was a loud _crash_ and, caught by surprise, the Joker wobbled and tipped over, Bad Cop falling over with him. After quickly checking to see what had made the noise – a vent cover – Bad Cop finally managed to get a hold of his phone and quickly held it to his face. "S'ry about tha', Pa," he said, using his full weight to keep the Joker down. "We're in a bit 'f a mess righ' now."

"Son?" his Pa said in alarm, at the same time a new voice said, "Joker! Unhand him… uhhh…"

Bad Cop turned his head back to see a boy in a red-and-green costume with a glittering gold cape standing next to the fallen vent cover, staring at him in confusion. "Oh," the boy said. "I thought we were going to rescue you. You're Good Cop, right? You look different!"

"One moment, Pa," Bad Cop said, and he let Good Cop switch in.

Good Cop managed a smile and covered the phone's microphone. "Hey, buddy!" he said to the kid. "Thanks for coming to rescue me! That was Bad Cop, _I'm_ Good Cop."

The boy's eyes lit up behind his green-tinted goggles. "Wow! I didn't know you were two people! That's so cool! I'm Robin, by the way."

"Alright," the Joker grumbled, pinned beneath Good Cop. "That's great and all, but hey, kid, is Batman coming?"

"Umm…" Robin's face fell and he looked down at the ground. "Sorry, he had stuff to do. I'm sure he'll show up next time."

"What!" the Joker yelped while Harley groaned behind him. "What kind of stuff? Harley, did any of the other bad guys plan anything for tonight? I thought I made it clear that this night was _reserved!_ "

"No, no!" Robin said quickly. "He's not fighting anyone tonight, he just had… other stuff. Superhero stuff."

"Superhero stuff? Is he fighting _Superman?!_ "

"No!"

"Does he hate Superman now?!"

" _No!_ "

"Son, what's going on over there?" Pa said over the phone. "Should we call the police?"

Good Cop uncovered the microphone. "It's okay," he said. "We're okay now. We were going to the dinner party, but one of Batman's bad guys –"

" _One of_ Batman's bad guys?" The Joker sounded like his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

Good Cop rolled his eyes. "Batman's _greatest enemy_ kidnapped us. Sorry, we would've called if we had known we'd be out this late."

"You don't have to apologize for being _kidnapped_ –"

"Um, Good Cop?" Robin said. "We should probably go now. I told Batgirl I was just going to scope out the area, but then I saw you and thought that you were in trouble so I came down to rescue you. She's expecting me back really soon, so… could you get off Joker?"

Good Cop hesitated, but as dejected as the Joker looked, he didn't seem in the mood to stop them. So Good Cop got up, keeping a wary eye on Harley Quinn, and backed away towards Robin. "Okay, Pa," he said, speaking into the phone. "We'll be back home soon."

"Okay, son," his Pa said, still sounding worried. "We'll have dinner ready for you when you get here, alright?"

"Yeah, okay. Bye."

Once Good Cop hung up, Robin waved at the Joker and Harley. "Bye, Joker! I promise that Batman will give you a really good fight another night!"

"He better," the Joker said sadly, still lying on the ground. Harley waved back and smiled. Good Cop had no idea what was going on.

On the way out, they passed the cup of ice cream that the Joker had ever-so-kindly gotten him. It was half-melted, still with a spoon sticking out of it. Good Cop decided to take it with them. Mint chocolate chip was his favorite flavor, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhh sorry for the lack of updates. here's a thing:
> 
> I've been trying to make my interpretation of good cop & bad cop's situation more like actual real-life dissociative identity disorder and less like a fantasy lego thing. the fic will go into this in more detail, but essentially, I'm trying to separate gcbc having two faces (a fantasy lego thing) from them having DID (a real life thing) – that is, a lego character could have DID without having two faces, and a lego character could have two faces without having DID, gcbc just happen to have both. the fic will, hopefully, make this more clear.
> 
> I don't have DID myself, and while I've done my research, I don't doubt that I have or will mess up in my portrayal, so like, feel free to discuss that with me, whether through the comments or in my email (which can be found in my profile).
> 
> anyway… content warnings for mentions of child abuse in this chapter

Batgirl, a dark-skinned woman with a red ponytail sticking out the back of her mask, was waiting a little ways outside in one of Batman's Batmobiles, clearly surprised to see Robin coming back with Good Cop. "Robin! I told you not to try and rescue him yourself!"

"It's okay!" Robin said brightly. "There wasn't a fight or anything. He already got himself untied when I got there. Did you know there's a Bad Cop, too?"

Good Cop sighed. In the back of his mind, Bad Cop grumbled. _Darn. What was the point of trying to hide myself in the first place?_

"I know," said Batgirl. "But, Robin, that's not something you should be sharing without their permission."

"Oh! Oh." Robin looked up at Good Cop with a guilty expression. "I'm sorry, Misters! I didn't mean…"

"It's okay, buddy," Good Cop said. "Just try not to tell anyone else, alright?"

"I won't, I promise."

The two of them climbed inside the Batmobile, Batgirl lifting the vehicle off the ground as soon as they had their seatbelts on. "Glad Batman finally added some extra seats to these things," she commented. "Some of them, anyway. I think he's still working through his collection."

"Yeah," said Good Cop absentmindedly, in-between spoonfuls of ice cream. "How do you guys know Batman, anyway? He's never really… mentioned any other superheroes working with him." That, and the Super Secret Police hadn't even heard of a Batgirl or Robin before, and their background checks were thorough.

Batgirl laughed. "It's a recent development."

"We saved Gotham City together!" Robin piped up in the seat next to Good Cop. "And now we're one big Batfamily!"

Good Cop smiled – and then something clicked.

"Wait," he said. "Batman said that he and his son saved Gotham City."

Robin beamed. "He told you already?"

"Let me guess," Batgirl said. "He didn't mention anything about his new lady friend. Completely platonic, by the way."

"No, I mean – he said he and his son saved the city, but I thought Dick was his son." Good Cop fixed his gaze on Robin, who suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Oh," Robin said. "Well, haha, _uhhh_ –"

"Does he have _two_ kids now? And he just never mentioned you?"

"…yeah. Yeah! That's _exactly_ what's going on here."

Good Cop frowned, but before he could say anything, Batgirl spoke up. "Hey," she said. "Do you want to stop by Wayne Manor before we take you home?"

"No thank you, Miss. We're really tired, and we'd like to just go home."

"You sure? Your clothes are still there."

"We'll get them back when we return the tuxedo."

"Got it. Where do you live? Bricksburg, right?"

Good Cop gave her directions to their Ma and Pa's house with only slight hesitation – Batman already knew where they lived, after all, and it wasn't as if these two would have any bad intentions, especially with them being superheroes. Unless they were also Master Builders, he thought – but no, that was over now.

On the flight there, Batgirl spoke up. "I'm really sorry about this, by the way."

"It's okay," said Good Cop.

"Not really? You shouldn't have gotten caught up in Batman's –" Batgirl sighed. "– _relationship drama._ "

Good Cop frowned. "So Batman and the Joker are…?"

"I don't think even they know," Batgirl said. "Batman managed to save the city by telling the Joker how much he means to him and then they went on and on about how much they hated each other, but man, it's certainly not the kind of hate I'm used to! _Usually_ when you hate someone, you don't – you don't –" She grimaced. "I don't even know how to describe it. I call it a relationship because it practically would be one if they stopped calling it 'hate.' Batman's all proud of how he has a greatest enemy, but like… this can't go on forever, you know?"

She caught herself. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't be dumping all of this on you."

"Oh no, it's fine," Good Cop said. "I… think I understand." He didn't understand anything, but maybe if he had some time to think about it, it would clear up.

They were there soon enough, and Batgirl landed the Batmobile landed some ways down the road. Good Cop hopped onto the ground and looked up at where his house was; the lights were still on in the windows. He felt a pang of guilt for making his parents worry like this.

"Bye, Misters!" Robin waved at him from the window. "Come and visit again soon!"

Good Cop waved back as the Batmobile lifted off again and flew away. He stood there for a while after it was gone, looking up at the starry sky, before Bad Cop nudged him and they began walking up the hill to their home.

* * *

The next morning, Bad Cop called Wyldstyle again to try and get Batman's number from her. When she answered, she sounded like she had just woken up. "What d'ya want?" she mumbled. "It's like, four in the morning."

"It's past eight," said Bad Cop.

"What?"

"Wha'ever. Listen, we need t' get Batman's number from y'."

Wyldstyle sighed. "Alright. You know he doesn't get up until really late, right?"

"…no, I didn' actually know."

"Well, he does. So don't call him until, like, six. PM. That was what I did back when we were dating, anyway." There was movement on the other end of the phone. "Here's his cell number. Now let me sleep."

After writing down the number and apologizing, Bad Cop hung up and immediately dialed Batman. Regardless of whether he was nocturnal, their parents weren't, and if Batman still wanted to talk to them, he'd have to arrive at a reasonable hour.

No one picked up on the first call. The second call was picked up and hung up before Bad Cop could get a word out. Grumbling, Bad Cop called again. And again, when the third call wasn't picked up either.

It wasn't until the fifth call that he got an answer; a drawn-out groan and Batman's gruff voice saying, "Who is this?"

"It's th' cops," Bad Cop said. "Listen –"

Batman hung up. Bad Cop nearly threw his cell across the room before Good Cop stopped him. _Look at it this way,_ Good Cop said. _If he doesn't want to answer our calls, he doesn't get to talk to Ma and Pa, and we don't have to put up with him._

Bad Cop sighed and put the phone down. "You're right. Prob'ly better this way."

The cell rang again, catching them both by surprise. When he checked the caller id, it was Batman's number. Bad Cop sighed again and answered it. "Hey."

"Thought you were the _actual_ cops," Batman said. "The actual cops… don't like Batman much. Not since the new commissioner took over."

Bad Cop frowned. "She seemed t' like y' well enough."

"Yeah, but she's constantly hounding me about my taxes, and she got the rest of the police on my back, too. It's _so annoying._ "

"Whatever," said Bad Cop. " _Listen_ –"

"Almost as annoying as being called at like, whatever time this is. Too early. What time is it?"

Good Cop switched in. "It's a perfectly reasonable time to be awake," he said. "And if you want to talk to our parents, you're not going to be coming to our house at two in the morning. So let's set a date."

Batman groaned again. "You two are super annoying."

"Alright," said Good Cop. "Then find some other parents to talk to."

"I told you, your parents are like, the only parents I know! I don't have any other parents to talk to!"

"Well, then, we're free today, if that's not too short notice for you. How does lunchtime sound?"

"Terrible."

"Great, we'll be expecting you around one."

"Even worse." Batman sighed. " _Bruce Wayne_ will be there," he said, "got it?"

"Fantastic," said Good Cop, grinning broadly even though Batman wasn't there to see it. "See you then!"

He hung up before Batman could respond and slumped against the wall, his grin sliding off his face. "I don't think I like him," he said to Bad Cop.

_Join the club,_ Bad Cop said.

Good Cop nodded and straightened up. "Better get ourselves ready," he said. "Let's tell Ma and Pa the plan."

* * *

Ma raised an eyebrow and sipped her morning coffee. "I didn't know you knew Bruce Wayne. That's impressive!"

"We, erm, met through Batman." Good Cop figured Batman would _not_ appreciate them telling their parents his secret identity, which unfortunately meant a lot of awkwardness as they tried to come up with an explanation for how they knew a billionaire from Gotham. "Recently. Sort of."

"And he wants to talk to _us?_ "

"Well, all of us," Good Cop said. "He adopted a son, and he knows we were adopted, so he wanted parenting advice. Batman asked us to talk with him, and we went to the dinner party to meet him." He made a face. "Except we never actually got to the dinner party."

Ma and Pa nodded. "Speaking of, well, that," Ma said, "you're… safe, aren't you?"

"'Safe?' I mean, I'm, erm –"

"Are any more of Batman's bad guys going to try and kidnap you again?"

"Oh," said Good Cop. "Don't worry, we should be fine. That was kind of… a one-time thing, I think."

"You don't sound very certain, son," said Pa.

"We're fine. They don't know where we live, and we're not planning to go into Gotham again anytime soon."

"That's good," said Ma, "but just so you know, I looked up the Joker fellow you told us about, and if he tries to go after you ever again, I'll come out of retirement and kick his butt."

Good Cop sputtered and covered his face in a poor attempt to hide his grin. "Ma, oh my _gosh_ –"

"What? Do you think I wouldn't?"

"No, we know you would!"

They continued chatting over breakfast until late into the morning. Good Cop stayed out for the most part, but Bad Cop switched in briefly for a few minutes of conversation. Good Cop was glad to see him out – it had been a few months ago, but the time when Bad Cop had wanted to disappear from the world were still fresh in his memory. It wouldn't happen again, Bad Cop promised. They needed each other.

Their life was _good._ They didn't have to be police officers anymore. They could have breakfast every morning with their Ma and Pa. They could spend each day doing nothing but be together as a family. They didn't have to even _think_ about Business or what they had gone through ever again.

Sometimes, though, they strongly felt the lack of structure. Days and nights blurred into one. Sometimes they wondered if they could have something else, something to do with their time – but no. There wasn't anything else they needed. They were happy with what they had.

Why ruin that?

* * *

The doorbell rang a few minutes past one. Good Cop and Bad Cop had been anticipating it since half past twelve, so it was a relief when it finally rang, even if it gave them both a spike of anxiety. "I'll get it," Good Cop said, standing up from where they had been sitting for the past half hour.

Bruce and Barbara were there together, Bruce dressed in what was one of his more relaxed tuxedos – Good Cop didn't think he knew _how_ to dress casually – while Barbara was dressed in a simple skirt and a shirt emblazoned with "HARVARD FOR POLICE". She grinned at him, Bruce imitating the gesture, though on him it mostly just looked uncomfortable. "Hey," she said. "Nice to meet you in better circumstances."

"Less kidnap-y ones," Bruce added.

Good Cop chuckled, feeling Bad Cop's irritation in the back of his mind. "Yeah," he said. "Why don't you come in?"

His Ma and Pa were sitting in the living room in their respective chairs. Bruce and Barbara greeted them politely and sat on the couch while Good Cop went dragged out a chair from the kitchen for himself.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Ma said, smiling at them. "Are you two…?"

"Entirely platonic," Barbara said immediately.

"Yeah," said Bruce. "She just lives with me."

"Uh, just because I stay at your place sometimes doesn't mean I live with you. I have my own apartment. A nice one, too." Barbara frowned. "Anyway, we're not here to talk about our lack-of-relationship. We're here to talk about your son."

"Right," said Pa. "So tell us about him."

Barbara looked expectantly at Bruce, who, after a moment, realized he should be talking and cleared his throat. "Well," he said. "Dick – Richard, y'know, he's… he's a great kid. I, uh, met him at the gala when Babs here was announced as the new commissioner, I guess the orphanage had some of the kids perform in the chorus?"

"They still call them orphanages in Gotham?" Ma asked.

"Yeah. They call it foster care here in Bricksburg, right?"

"Gotham is a little behind the times," Barbara said. "It's foster care most places."

"Gotham is _not_ behind the times –"

The casual smile Good Cop had plastered on his face was starting to hurt. As inconspicuous as he could be, he tried taking deep breaths to calm the rising dread in his gut. His Ma noticed anyway.

"Dear," she said, "do you want to step out for a moment?"

_Yeah,_ Bad Cop said in his head, _that'd be great._ Good Cop didn't realize he had spoken the same words in unison until after he had stood up and left the room. He heard Bruce say, "What was that about?" just before he reached his own room and closed the door behind him.

Bad Cop switched in before the panic attack could hit full force, and he was able to sit on the bed and take deep breaths to calm the physical symptoms.

"Okay," he said.

_What is going on?_ Good Cop said. _Why did that happen?_

"Y' started freakin' out. No big deal."

_It is a big deal! Why did it happen_ now?

"Sometimes it jus' happens. It's fine, Good. We can sit for a bit, an' go back out whenever."

Good Cop send a wave of annoyance tinged with fear, but didn't press the issue. Bad Cop let hmiself fall backwards onto the bed and sighed. Batman – Bruce Wayne, whichever – exhausted them to be around, and neither of them could figure out why. They thought about him frequently, wondering why he had sought them out. Was it really just to talk to their parents? That didn't feel like enough reason to drag them out of their peaceful, mundane life.

_It's not about him,_ Good Cop said.

"Wha'?"

_There's a story going on. Something's going to happen that's worth writing about. That's why I'm worried._

"Could be a boring story."

_I want to go back out._

"T' the living room?"

_Yeah._

"Alrigh'."

Bad Cop pushed himself up off the bed and ambled out of the room. He could hear Barbara, Bruce, and Ma and Pa talking in soft voices at the end of the hall, and without thinking, he paused to listen.

"What I'm saying," Ma said, "is that being orphaned or abandoned at a young age, or at all – it comes with trauma. I'm sure you know that, but knowing that it happens isn't the same as knowing how to help. We adopted our sons when they were ten. It's been over twenty years, and we still don't know how to help them, sometimes. You and your husband need to know that you won't always have the answers."

There was a pause before Bruce said, "My _what_ –"

"He and Batman aren't married," Barbara said quickly. "They're coparenting, yeah, but it's not a romantic relationship."

"Oh! Sorry to assume."

"Eh, no big deal," Bruce said. "I mean, I get what you're saying."

Pa coughed. "What do you know about the center Dick stayed at?"

"The orphanage? It's alright. I mean, their funding's good. I talk to the people who run it, sometimes. I think my name's on a plaque on their wall somewhere."

"So you can vouch for it being a good place for kids?"

"Uh, yeah? Why wouldn't it be?"

"It's a valid concern," Barbara said. "There have been places that were shut down due to child abuse. Have you heard of the Eleanor Kinder Center?"

Distantly, as if his body was a robot he was piloting from remote control, Bad Cop felt the symptoms of Good Cop's panic attack intensify. This made no sense, Bad Cop wasn't the one who got panic attacks, they should be fine now that he was switched in –

"It was bad. They shut it down about ten, twelve years ago for multiple counts of child abuse. It was running for nearly twenty years before anyone realized what was going on. Not a good moment for the police in the area; they don't like to talk about it."

"I'm not surprised," Ma said. "I still feel like we failed all the kids there, including our own."

There was a moment where no one spoke, and Bad Cop could hear his pulse pounding.

"Wait, what?" Barbara said, then louder: "Wait, _what?_ "

"After they were abandoned, Gilligan and Malcolm ended up at that center," Pa said. "We were already in the process of adoption when we realized the situation – and when we tried to report it, they threatened to take us to court. Make it so we would never be able to adopt again."

"We were so scared," Ma said. "Even after we dropped the report, we had to fight them every step of the process. It took two years before we had full custody of our boys, and we were all so scared they would take them away again. We didn't stop being afraid until they turned eighteen. And there were so many kids we weren't able to save."

"It wasn't your _fault,_ " Barbara said. "I mean – maybe, if they had taken you to court, you would've won, and the place would've been shut down a few years earlier – but there was no way know that! I'm sure you did the best you could, and –"

Pa coughed. "You're very kind," he said, "but we've digressed. Let's get back on topic."

Bruce spoke again. "Uh, yeah, okay."

They didn't know which of them took control, couldn't remember who was switched in, but one of them forced their body to walk away, to open the front door and step outside the house, walking aimlessly down the road until their legs felt too heavy to move and Good Cop and Bad Cop broke down on the ground.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey sorry for the long wait (I say, knowing full well that this is my most recently updated fanfic & I haven't updated Certain Other Fanfics since november 2016), but here's the next chapter. it's a long one.
> 
> uhhh yeah. that's all. comments are appreciated.

"Hey, cops!"

Bad Cop snapped his head up. He was sitting in one of their parent's neighbor's front yards. Actually, wait, the house was boarded up and there was a "FOR SALE" sign next to him. Probably still trespassing. Maybe. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Or maybe dirt.

Bruce leaned out the car window. "Hey! You alright?"

_No,_ Good Cop said. _Make him go away._

"Go away," said Bad Cop.

Bruce got out of his car, which was basically the opposite of what he was supposed to do. Bad Cop considered moving, but even as Bruce sat next to him, he couldn't muster up the motivation.

"Dudes," Bruce said. "What the heck."

"I'unno," Bad Cop said.

"No, seriously. What was that about?"

"I'unno."

"You freaked out and left and then your parents freaked out when you weren't in your room and I should probably text your mom and tell her I found you 'cause she's driving in the opposite direction. You left your phone in your room, by the way."

"I guess."

"Dude."

"What?"

Bruce groaned. "Don't make me do all this feelings stuff, it's like, the one thing Batman's not good out, out of, like, literally everything else in the world."

"Could jus' leave."

"Dude, come on."

Bad Cop looked away.

"Look," said Bruce, "I get it. Your mom mentioned some stuff about childhood trauma, and I mean, she didn't like, go into specifics, but I kind of have a feeling that out of every kid at that center, you weren't the lucky ones. I don't think there were any lucky ones, the way she made it sound."

"I don' remember much," bad Cop said. "Maybe tha's what makes me lucky."

"Eh, not really. Even if you don't remember something long term, it still effects you short term, and that effects you long term. You know?"

"I guess."

"You are super in a bad place right now, aren't you?"

"I guess."

"It's fine. Come on, get in the car."

Bad Cop stood up and followed Bruce to the car. He hadn't gotten very far, but somehow, he felt too exhausted to walk the way back.

"Hey," Bruce said, before he started the car. "You're free to visit like, whenever. Just give me a call and I'll pick you up."

Bad Cop didn't answer.

"Seriously, like, you need to get out of your house. Have you talked to anyone who's not your parents in the past, like, two months?"

"Talked t' Wyldstyle."

"Before that? Have you talked to Unikitty? Metalbeard? Spaceship guy?"

"Benny," said Bad Cop. "An' no."

"Remembering his name is a step in the right direction, probably."

Bad Cop leaned back in his seat and stared out the window.

Bruce started the car. "I mean it," he said. "Come visit sometime. Dick would be happy to see you're alright, relatively speaking."

"Thanks," said Bad Cop. "We'll think about it."

* * *

Neither of their parents made too much of a fuss when Bruce took them home. Ma hugged Bad Cop and told him to please not make them worry like that again. Barbara and Bruce said an awkward goodbye, and Bad Cop went and sat in his room until dinner.

Good Cop had been quiet for a while, but he switched out suddenly for dinner. Bad Cop didn't complain, though it surprised him that Good Cop felt okay enough to be out.

"I just want Ma and Pa to know we're alright," Good Cop said.

_Are you alright?_

"I'm okay. It's not like I remember anything from back then. I'll be okay."

Bad Cop decided not to argue.

The dinner was uneventful. Ma and Pa didn't ask them what had happened. Bad Cop wondered if his Ma and Pa knew how much they had overheard. It was bothering him, how much they didn't remember of their childhood. Moreso, when he tried to remember, Bad Cop's mind was overwhelmed with – he shouldn't just call it "bad," even though it was definitely bad; their therapist had advised them to name the specific emotions. He felt overwhelming _fear,_ and _hurt,_ and _shame,_ maybe.

But did anything really have to change? Good Cop and Bad Cop could live forever with their parents and have a happy life and never have to think about anything bad ever again. Wouldn't it be better that way?

* * *

The drive was long, and Pa's car was old and a couple hundred miles away from failing in the middle of the road. It couldn't go much above forty miles per hour anymore, so Good Cop stayed off the highway. Bad Cop didn't remember how they had got in the car, or where they were going, but Good Cop seemed to know what he was doing, so everything was probably okay.

_Why are we going to Gotham?_ Bad Cop asked when Good Cop took the road leading out of Bricksburg.

"I didn't say where we were going," Good Cop said. "You're the one assuming."

_But we are going to Gotham._

"Yes."

_Why?_

"Do I need a reason?" Good Cop's voice was tense, and Bad Cop figured he should stop pressing.

The car died in the middle of one of Gotham's busy streets at around one in the morning. Good Cop was barely able to pull over before it stopped dead and refused to move any further. He got out, surrounded by drivers honking at him and opened the hood, squinting at the incomprehensible mass of bricks.

_What are you doing,_ Bad Cop asked.

"Maybe I can fix it."

_Just call Ma. She can pick us up in her car. Pa hasn't driven this car as far as we did in years._

"I'll figure something out."

Good Cop took out his phone and dialed. The voice that answered was not their Ma. "Whoa, what's up, cops, didn't expect you to call this soon –"

"Our car broke down," Good Cop said.

"Uh, where? 'cause, like, if you need me to pick you up or something, I'm kind of busy."

"I could go home."

"No, it's cool. I said we'd hang, it's cool, we're gonna hang. Just, y'know you gotta chill for a bit. Where are you?"

"Somewhere in your city. It's too dark to read the street signs."

"Right. Cool. I'll be there. Eventually."

It only took ten minutes for a flying Batmobile to clear the area of every other car and pedestrian, apart from a small, distant gaggle of curious bystanders. Good Cop sucked in air between his teeth and tensed up.

Two lights lit up in the windshield and a computerized voice spoke up. "Good evening. Good. Cop. Bad. Cop."

Batman popped open the hatch and grinned down at him. "Figured I'd teach 'Puter your name! Like it?"

"Yeah," Good Cop said. "I'm really enjoying how everyone in earshot knows who we are now."

"Jeez, lighten up on the sarcasm, you were barely in Gotham back when you were a bad guy. Nobody is gonna jump you or anything."

"We were kidnapped our first night here!"

"Yeah, and did he know who you are?"

Fair point. Good Cop bit back a retort and sighed. "The car broke down," he said.

"You told me already. Want me to fix it?" Batman hopped down next to him, crossing his arm and narrowing his eyes at what lay beneath the car's hood.

"Do you know anything about fixing cars?"

"I'm a Master Builder," Batman said. "I mean, you know that. Obviously."

Good Cop winced.

"This thing is a piece of junk, though. Bet I could build you something way better."

"No," said Good Cop. "This is our Pa's car. I'm not going to give it back to him as some… weird thing."

" _Jeez._ Just get in."

Good Cop obliged. It was only when he was sitting in the seat that he realized his Pa's car was still there. "Erm, what about –"

"Don't worry about the car. We'll get that later." The Batmobile lifted itself off the ground and ambled away, climbing up a nearby building. Maybe it wasn't strictly a Batmobile, but Good Cop wasn't sure what kinds of vehicles counted as such. "I told you, I'm busy tonight, so I gotta take you on some errands."

"Errands?" Good Cop frowned. "What kind of errands does Batman need to run?"

"Fighting crime. Obviously."

"What?!"

* * *

There were, apparently, a lot of villains in Gotham that Lord Business' Super Secret Police had failed to catalog – though now that they thought about it, Good Cop and Bad Cop didn't recall _any_ villains cataloged by their few Gotham investigations. They had never heard of the Joker before, and he seemed to be fairly well-known.

"You're going to love this guy," Batman said, settling the Batmobile in a spot distinctly labelled "NO PARKING ZONE." "His name is Two-Face, and –"

"Oh," said Good Cop. "I've heard of him."

"What? How?"

"The guy who kidnapped me mentioned him."

"Okay," said Batman, sounding incredibly offended, "he's not 'the guy who kidnapped you,' he's _the Joker_ , and he has a name."

"Alright," said Good Cop, rolling his eyes. "The Joker mentioned him. Said he actually has one face, but half of it got… messed up? He didn't say how."

"Yeah. Got like, half-melted. Don't ask him about it."

"Got it."

"So," Batman said, "do both of you guys have awesome fighting skills, or is it only Bad Cop?"

"Erm, we both do. You think they're awesome?" It took a moment for the implication to sink in. "Wait, you want us to _fight?_ "

"I want you to _crime_ -fight. That part's important. I've seen you fight, you just gotta direct those awesome fighting skills at actual bad guys."

"I get that!" Good Cop said loudly. "But – this isn't really – I, erm –"

_Hey, Good,_ Bad Cop said suddenly. _You don't have to do everything yourself._

"I know that!" he snapped. "That's not the issue here!"

_You've been out too long. You're going to fall asleep. That's no state to fight in._

Good Cop sighed, acutely aware of Batman watching their internal debate. "Fine. I get it."

Bad Cop switched in without any further argument. Batman didn't even blink.

"'Kay," he said. "So, do you have the _more_ awesome fighting skills or something?"

"No," Bad Cop said. "If one 'f us stays out too long, we fall asleep. If we switch, we can stay awake. Somethin' with 'ow our brain's wired. Tha's all."

"Cool," said Batman. "Wanna go beat up some bad guys?"

"Sure."

* * *

"Here's the deets," Batman whispered. "Two-Face stole a truck and some other junk from a construction site, and me and 'Puter tracked him here. The truck's in a vacant lot on the other side of the street, we can deal with that later. Dunno who he's meeting. Chances are there's a bunch of them."

Bad Cop grunted in response, keeping his back pressed to the wall of the alley, keeping an eye on the boarded-up door.

"It was supposed to just be me tonight, 'cause it's a school night for Robin, but if you need help, I can call Batgirl over."

"I'll be fine."

"I mean, twelve hours ago you went and freaked out on Bruno, so –"

"I'll be _fine._ "

"Alright, alright. Yeesh."

Batman gestured for Bad Cop to follow him, and they crept closer to the door. As he got near it, Bad Cop noticed that the boards were only nailed to the door, not the surrounding wall. It was probably still  operational as a door. Batman stopped them outside a vent, through which Bad Cop could hear voices, and they silently crouched down to listen.

"Wait 'til you see what we got for dessert!" Bad Cop recognized Harley Quinn's voice, just as cheery and upbeat as she had been when he was kidnapped. "Joker robbed an ice cream place, and he let me take some home for my girls! Two-Face, you can have some too, I guess."

"You guess?" an offended voice said, presumably Two-Face. "I stole a truck for your girls!"

Laughter, from Harley and at least one other person, maybe two. "I'm just _kidding,_ of _course_ you can have some!"

Two-Face grumbled and didn't respond.

"Bringing out the fine china for this?" an unfamiliar voice said.

"You know it, Pam. Styrofoam all the way!"

More laughter. "So how did the kidnapping go?" said the unfamiliar voice, apparently Pam. "All I heard after I left was that you got the wrong guy, and Joker's been sulking ever since."

"Yeah, Harley." That _was_ a familiar voice, though Catwoman hadn't stayed around for long. "I left like, right away. Let the cat out of the bag!"

"I literally know nothing about this," Two-Face said.

"Oh my _gosh,_ " Harley said. "Two-Face, you're gonna love this. The guy we got instead of Bruce Wayne? Some Bricksburg guy? Actually _two_ guys! With two actual faces!"

"Seriously?" Two-Face sounded surprised, and… intrigued? "Like, literally two faces?"

"One on the front of their head, the other on their back, like, under their helmet. Not the half-and-half deal you've got going on."

"Huh," Two-Face said. "What are their names?"

"Good Cop and Bad Cop. Retired cops, apparently. Look kinda young to be retired, dunno what's up with that."

"Are they –"

"Hey," Pam interrupted. "I know this is real interesting, but c'mon, Harley! What happened after that? Why's Joker in a funk?"

"Just 'cause Robin showed up instead of Batman. That's all. The two cops were the most interesting thing that happened."

"And he's _still_ sulking?" Catwoman laughed. "That's so lame!"

"Watch it," Harley said sharply.

"Sorry."

"Whatever," Two-Face said. "So tell me more about the cops."

"Well," said Harley, "camera's picked them up outside the alley with Batman, so if I had to guess, I'd say they tracked you after you stole that truck, and are listening to us right now! Is that right, guys?"

Bad Cop tensed. Batman growled under his breath.

"Seriously?" Two-Face groaned. " _Seriously?_ I didn't even do anything yet!"

"You stole a truck," Harley said. "So, since this is your fault –"

"I didn't do anything _bad!_ "

"Stealing is a crime!"

"Not a bad crime!"

"Just go out and deal with them while we put the ice cream away."

"Fine!" The sound of a chair scraping across concrete made Bad Cop wince. "All the flavors suck, anyway. Why didn't you steal chocolate?"

"We did! I told you, Joker's sulking! He kept it all!"

"Oh my _gosh,_ " said Two-Face's voice, now much closer. Bad Cop stood up just as the door slammed open and hit him right where he had been sitting.

" _Ow!_ "

"What –"

Batman jumped up. "Cops, you deal with this guy! I'm gonna stop the others."

Bad Cop pushed the door off himself, rubbing his face. "Wha'?"

Batman had already disappeared through the door, leaving Bad Cop alone with Two-Face.

Bad Cop very quickly understood how he had gotten his name. Half his face looked like it had been split down the middle, one side horrifically scared, the flesh warped and twisted, his black hair melted and discolored a deep pink. His body was similarly damaged – his clothes looked like they were dripping off him on one side.

Long ago, he had questioned a Master Builder on how they saw the world. The answer was simple: they saw the world as the bricks it was. Everything – buildings, objects, clothes, people, the very world itself – was made of bricks that had no attributes of their own. It was only the power of consciousness, of everyone's collective imagination, that gave the bricks properties of the materials they represented. Two-Face looked as if the bricks themselves had been damaged – what would that have done to the person?

That conversation had, of course, ended with Bad Cop sending the Master Builder to the Think Tank, and oh shoot he had been staring at Two-Face for an entirely inappropriate amount of time.

Two-Face cleared his throat, his arms crossed over his chest. "So," he said.

"Yeah," Bad Cop said. He kept his stance tense, but Two-Face wasn't making any move to attack him.

"I'll tell you what happened to our face if you tell us what happened to yours."

Bad Cop blinked. Two-Face's use of "our" and "us" –

"Funny," he said. "First thin' Batman told us about y' was not t' ask about your face."

"Yeah, well, you just seem so _interested,_ we thought we'd make an exception."

That was _not_ a friendly tone. Bad Cop's mouth twitched. "Sorry f'r staring."

"It's fine. We get it all the time." Two-Face took a coin out of his pocket and casually flipped it, catching it in his hand. It landed heads.

Bad Cop flinched back when the other man extended his hand, not realizing at first that it was for a handshake. "Name's Harvey Dent," he said. "You're Bad Cop, I presume?"

Bad Cop hesitated, then returned the handshake. "Yep," he said. "Tha's me."

Two-Face – _Harvey's_ eyebrow raised at the robot arm, but didn't otherwise react. "Thank you for not going straight to 'punch first, ask questions later,'" he said. "I'm not interested in fighting you."

Through the open door, they could hear the sounds of a scuffle. Batman's voice rose up above the noise. "Are you seriously throwing _ice cream_ at me –"

"Tha's fine," Bad Cop said. "Wasn' my idea t' come here in th' first place."

"Ooch, I get that. You on good terms with your other half, or…?"

He felt a burst of confusion from Good Cop in the back of his mind. "Why wouldn' we be?"

Harvey's eye, the one on his scarred side, twitched. "Not everyone is."

"Ah," Bad Cop said. "Sorry. We haven' 'xactly met anyone else…"

His mouth moved faster than his mind, it seemed, because Bad Cop realized in the middle of saying it that this was the first time in his and Good Cop's life that they had met anyone else like them. Sure, Two-Face didn't have two faces the way they did, but – if he had been interpreting the conversation correctly – Harvey and Two-Face were _two people,_ just like he and Good Cop were.

"Hey, cops!" Both Bad Cop and Harvey looked to the door, but Batman wasn't visible in the immediate entrance. "What the heck are you doing out there? Thought you were gonna beat up some bad guys!"

Good Cop, who had been quiet for a while now, wordlessly pressed for control. Bad Cop gave it to him.

As soon as he switched in, Good Cop stuck his head through the doorway. "We're actually _really enjoying_ this conversation, so if you could mind your own –"

A clump of ice cream hit him in the face. Good Cop yelped and retreated, wiping it on his sleeve.

"Hurry it up!" Batman shouted up again. "I'm almost done here, so finish whatever your doing and let's get these criminals back to Arkham!"

Good Cop rolled his eyes and turned to Harvey. "Sorry about that," he said cheerfully. "I'm Good Cop. It's nice to meet you!"

"Same here, but I'm afraid we have to cut this conversation short. I am a wanted criminal, after all, and I have no interest in going back to prison."

Good Cop's face visibly fell, and Harvey cracked a lopsided smile. "Enjoying the conversation that much, huh? I'll see you around."

He turned and walked casually down the alley, flipping his coin again as he did so. Good Cop waved, then hesitated, feeling a familiar dread creep up on him.

* * *

Batman finally emerged from the door with a scowl. "Are you serious? They all got away? I kinda figured, you were so great at capturing Master Builders back… then…"

He trailed off. Good Cop was huddled on the ground, clutching his head and gasping for breath. "Oh jeez," Batman said, and kneeled down next to him. "What's up?"

"We let someone get away," Good Cop managed to say.

"Yeah, well, no big deal. I let three someones get away. What's actually up?"

Good Cop squeezed his eyes shut. "If we let anyone get away it's – there are consequences – if we can't do our _job_ – Business will –"

"Oh boy. I'm gonna stop you right there. You're not hired by Business anymore, you know that, right?"

Good Cop's breath hitched. Batman sighed. "C'mon," he said. "Let's get back to the Scuttler."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as someone who knows All Jack about non-lego batman canon, I actually made an effort to do my darn research when it came to writing about lego harvey dent, to the point where I asked my friend who knows way more how I should characterize him – which is like unheard of for me with how bad my social anxiety is. that said, I probably messed up, so feel free to tell me "yeah, you messed up, and here's how" so I can fix it. I might revise this chapter later, too, and if that's the case, I'll make a note in the author's note of the next chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's new chapter day every body
> 
> I don't have anything really coherent to say. as always, comments are loved & appreciated. gonna try and get the next update done soonish.

By the time they reached the Batcave and had exited the Scuttler, the panic attack or episode or – _whatever_ it was, it had passed, and Good Cop was putting himself back together after a round of sobbing his eyes out. Batman stood next to him while he collected himself, one hand awkwardly on his back.

"Two-Face didn't upset you, did he?" he asked. "'Cause if he did –"

"It wasn't Harvey's fault," Good Cop said. "We're just an – an onion of trauma, I guess."

"Sorry, what?"

"Onions have layers, and –" He suppressed a sob. "Business treated us so horribly _before_ Taco Tuesday, and then _that_ happened, and – and – whoever our biological moms were, they _abandoned_ us at what was _apparently_ Child Abuse Center, and – and – you peel off one layer of trauma and there's just more underneath. Maybe that's all we are."

Batman sighed. "You're not all trauma," he said. "Peel off enough layers and there's a good person at the core. Well, two good people. You've got a double-onion thing going on."

Good Cop sniffled.

"But, I mean – look, you're a growing onion. And you've got _tons_ of layers. One layer is that you've got parents who love you and worked really hard to adopt you. Another is – I mean, c'mon, you literally saved the universe, and it sucked, yeah, but you did it. And you've got a new layer that's, y'know, hanging out with the coolest guy in Gotham."

"The point of the onion metaphor was that all the layers are the same."

"Well, you're not an onion, and this metaphor sucks. You hungry?"

Good Cop wiped his eyes. "Not for onions."

"No. Just no. How do you feel about lobster?"

"We're really picky eaters. I'm not sure…"

"Well, we've got pizza too. We'll figure something out. Come on inside."

* * *

Everyone else was asleep, but Wayne Manor was big enough that they didn't have to worry too much about being quiet. Batman changed into a bathrobe and led Good Cop to the kitchen.

"I'll just stick two lobster thermidors into the microwave," he said. "You can try it, see if you like it. Not a big deal if you don't."

Good Cop had no idea what a lobster thermidor was, other than involving lobster, but he nodded and said, "I'll try it."

"Cool. You know where the dining hall is, right?"

"No."

"Cool. I'll show you in a sec."

Batman set the microwave for two minutes, then leaned on the counter and tapped his foot while Good Cop stood there awkwardly. After what felt like an hour, but what the microwave said was barely a full minute, Batman spoke up. "Feeling better?"

"I guess," said Good Cop. "I don't really know what that was about."

"You got upset 'cause you let Two-Face go."

"But it wasn't _that_ , not really…"

"You let someone get away and freaked out about it 'cause –"

"Stop talking," Good Cop snapped.

"Dude, I'm trying to help you out."

"You're not my therapist, okay?" Good Cop sighed. "Why do you even…"

He trailed off. The microwave _ding_ ed.

Batman raised an eyebrow. "Why do I care?"

"Yeah," Good Cop said. "I guess."

"Move, you're blocking the microwave."

Good Cop obliged, stepping out of the way as Batman took out the dishes and but them on the counter.

"Look," he said. "There's like, four kinds of people. Good guys, bad guys, good guys who do bad things, and really bad guys." He paused. "Actually, there's three. Good guys who do bad things are still good guys."

"Okay," said Good Cop.

"And, like, the difference between bad guys and really bad guys is that bad guys aren't really bad. They're bad, yeah, but _really_ bad guys are like… super bad. But even if they're not really bad… bad guys are still bad guys. They don't change. Nobody really changes."

Good Cop felt sick to his stomach. "Do you… really think that?"

"I mean, yeah. People don't change. Like, that Brickowski kid's been trying to say that Business is different now, but he's not. Bad guys don't change, and Business was a really bad guy."

Batman looked up at Good Cop's distressed expression. "Shoot," he said. "Look, I used to think you were bad guys. I was wrong. You're part of the good guys, even if Bad Cop's name is, well, _that_. I mean, you're not cops anymore, either."

He sighed. "Business tried to make you bad guys," he said. "It didn't work. You always were good guys, you were just good guys who did bad things. So still good guys. Y'know?"

"I…" Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "You really think we can be… good?"

"Yeah? I mean, it's not really a thing you can be. You just are."

Bad Cop was brooding in the back of his mind. Something felt off. Good Cop didn't feel like a "good guy" at all, not with everything Business had him do.

…but to be told that they were inherently good, that they were always good, that doing bad things wasn't their fault…

"So yeah, that's why I care, I guess. 'Cause you're good guys, and you've got all this stuff you went through that tried to make you bad. Are you crying?"

Good Cop wiped his eyes and smiled. "I just… thanks, Batman. For believing in us."

"You're welcome," Batman said. "I mean, yeah. Whatever. Let's eat."

* * *

Good Cop did not like lobster thermidor. He ate it anyway, scrunching up his face at the taste. Batman didn't seem to notice. After they ate, they found a room with an enormous couch to relax in, large enough to be a bed.. Good Cop lay down and stared at the ceiling.

"Do you remember when we first met?" he asked.

"Eh, not really." Batman flopped over on the couch next to him. "I think we only met after you got the Piece and junk."

"Yeah. We never really… went into Gotham a lot. Something about…" Good Cop struggled to remember. "…I don't know."

"Probably 'cause I was protecting it and Business didn't want to mess with me."

"Yeah," Good Cop said. "I mean, I don't know. But yeah, we didn't meet until Taco Tuesday. Or a little before. All those days just… they all feel like the same day."

"Did you think I was cool?"

Good Cop laughed. "We mostly thought we were going to die."

_I didn't,_ Bad Cop said.

"Okay, _I_ thought we were going to die."

"What? We wouldn't've killed you."

"Business would've." A pang went through Good Cop and Bad Cop both – Bad Cop had still trusted Business then.

"…okay," said Batman. "So we met. Cool."

"Vitruvius, Benny, and Unikitty went inside our mind. Or maybe just Bad Cop's mind? I don't remember anything. I mean, I don't remember _not_ being in our mind." Good Cop took a deep breath. "Then we lied to everyone and said I was on your side."

"I mean, you kind of were. Eventually."

"Only after Business tried to kill us like, five times." Good Cop's hand was shaking, the one he hadn't lost on Taco Tuesday.

"Let's not talk about Business. He's a jerk who sucks."

"That's one way of putting it." Good Cop took a deep breath. "Do you remember the spaceship?"

"The one I borrowed?"

"You stole it from Benny and left because you didn't want to work with us."

"I mean, I thought you were bad guys back then. Besides, I gave it back."

"Not really. You showed up in Bricksburg after –" Good Cop winced at the memory. "– after I came back from the infinite abyss. Then _I_ stole it to talk to Business."

"And saved the world," Batman added.

"I guess."

They lay there in silence for a long time. Good Cop was starting to feel drowsy.

"Do you remember the party?" he asked.

No response. Good Cop lifted himself enough to see that Batman was asleep. He still had his cowl on.

"Oh," he said, "okay. That's fine. I won't wake you up."

Why was he still talking out loud? Good Cop let himself drop back onto the couch.

_You're getting tired,_ Bad Cop said.

"Yeah, I know. It's fine." Good Cop turned his head to look at Batman.

"After the party," he said, "Wyldstyle told me that the two of you had broken up by then. I was… sorry? I don't know. I thought it was our fault, somehow. I don't think you wanted to be there. You were on your phone the whole time."

Somewhere in the mansion, there was the tick-tock of a grandfather clock. Good Cop listened to it for a while.

"Do you remember," he said, "when you came back with the spaceship? You asked if we needed a hand, and I thought you were making fun of me because I lost an arm. I mean, I didn't say anything. You weren't there when that happened, so I guess you didn't know." He smiled, for reasons he couldn't understand. It wasn't exactly a pleasant memory. "You called my parents 'old farts.' I kind of wish you would apologize for that, but it doesn't really matter. Not after this long.

"You said you didn't like me, back when you first asked to talk to my parents. I said I liked you, but it was sort of a lie. I didn't really know anything about you. I still don't. Not really."

Good Cop fell silent. Batman was softly snoring.

"When I met the Author," Good Cop said, and hesitated. "When I met the Author… they had a lot of faces. All of them were people I knew. Or, I mean, people in the story, I guess. When they had your face, they said… that people didn't change. That we're all flawed, and that's just how the world is. I didn't really think about it much. It was just the Author speaking through you, not actually you. But… they put a part of themself in everyone, so I guess that's what they put in you. Do you really think that people don't change? That good guys don't turn bad? That bad guys can't ever be good?" Good Cop's hands gripped the couch upholstery. "Does the Author think that?"

Bad Cop was quiet. Good Cop kept talking, even as Batman slept through it.

"I do like you now," he said. "It's… funny. This morning I still didn't like you that much, but now… I like that you care. You didn't seem to care about a lot of things before, but I barely saw you, so I don't really know. You care a lot, I think. I like that you're proud of things. I like that you're… free. I don't know how to explain that part." Good Cop paused. "I'm not gonna try. You're asleep, anyway.

"I just… I'm glad you care enough about us to… to invite us over. I'm sorry we messed up your errands. I just wanted –" His voice caught in his throat. "– you were different, you were… you _cared._ You told your son that we saved the universe. You didn't tell him that we were – were bad or wrong or anything. You didn't tell him about all the bad stuff we did. Or maybe you did, but… he was happy to meet us.

"You have all this freedom. I still feel trapped. Like my parent's house is the last safe place I have left. It's not. Not really. Business has been there like, a dozen times. But… I just wanted some of the freedom you have. I guess that's why I came. You're so free, and you said I could visit, and I thought… you could help me feel less trapped."

Good Cop couldn't think of anything else to say. "Sorry," he said. "I'm just talking to myself. I guess it's a good thing you're asleep." He paused. "Sorry, Bad."

_For what?_

"For bringing us here without really… asking first, I guess."

_It's fine. I enjoyed myself._

Good Cop yawned. "I'm glad…"

He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Batman breathing.

* * *

"Sir."

"Mmm…"

"Sir."

"Five more minutes…"

"Sir, you have to drive Master Dick to school."

"…make Babs do it…"

"Miss Gordon spent the night in her own apartment. You need to get up. I'll take care of your guest."

"My… what?"

Batman blinked open his eyes and sat up. Beside him, Good Cop was fast asleep on the couch. In front of him, Alfred was holding the keys to one of the cars, he'd have to ask which one.

After he took a moment to assess the situation, the first thing out of Batman's mouth was, "Why can't you drive him?"

"You promised Dick that you would drive him," Alfred said sternly. "Now, you should have time to change into an appropriate outfit. Breakfast is waiting for you downstairs."

Batman glanced at Good Cop, who was drooling on the cushions. "Shouldn't I wake him up first?"

"He looks like he needs the sleep. We can leave him here for now. I'll serve him breakfast once he wakes up."

"Alright, cool."

Once Batman had changed clothes, he rejoined Alfred as Bruce Wayne and the two walked downstairs. Alfred cleared his throat. "What were you two up to last night?"

Bruce shrugged. "Eh, not much. Some bad guys got away, but they weren't really doing any crime. I mean, eating stolen ice cream is _probably_ a crime, but it's not, like, blowing up stuff."

"And your guest?"

"Oh, right. Y'know how I told you they had that freakout thing when I was at their parents' house? I said they could come hang out like, anytime, and I guess they took that seriously 'cause Good Cop called at one in the morning and said their dad's car broke down in the middle of Gotham."

"You mean the car you brought home last night?"

"Yeah."

Alfred smiled. "I assumed you had a new appreciation for antiques."

"Haha, yeah, I can't believe they actually drove that thing. Anyway, we went out to beat up some bad guys, but all they did was talk to Two-Face and freak out again when he got away."

"I see." Alfred paused for a moment. "And you… trust them?"

Bruce looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "I mean, kind of? Like, we got off to a bad start, but they're both cool now."

"They certainly seem like nice people."

"I wouldn't call them nice. They can be jerks sometimes. But…" Bruce hesitated. "Yeah, I guess they're nice."

"Do you –"

Bruce's ringtone went off, stopping Alfred before he could finish his question. Bruce grumbled and took out his phone. "Hey, Wyldstyle, it's, uh, been a while – what? Yeah, they're at my place. Dunno if they have their phone, so… oh. No, they didn't say anything about that. Yeah. Okay, bye."

He hung up and sighed. "Looks like the cops didn't tell their parents they'd be out this late," he said to Alfred. "Can you, like, drive them home?"

"Of course, sir." Alfred frowned. "Pardon the subject change, but do you still keep in contact with Wyldstyle?"

"Not really. I mean, we broke up."

"That's a shame. I thought she was nice."

"Yeah, but it didn't work out."

Alfred hummed thoughtfully. "Well, keep your mind open, Master Bruce. I'm sure you can find someone else."

"Whatever," said Bruce. "I'm gonna go eat. You go check on the cops."

"As you wish."

Bruce headed to the kitchen. Alfred watched him go, then turned to return to the room the guests were in.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "carter… you have fics from 2016 you need to update if you want to continue them… why are you updating this one 3 times in a row" listen. listen. I have no explanation other than "i love legos so much" and also I want to get this done before the lego ninjago movie comes out (which falls under the "i love legos so much" category)
> 
> again, comments are rly good and I love reading them. tell me ur fave part of the chapter. I'd say "tell me ur fave joke" but there are not a lot of jokes in this chapter! there'll be at least one (1) in the next!

"I'm thirty-four, Ma! You don't need to know where we are at any given moment!"

"We're not saying that," Pa said calmly. "We'd just appreciate a call if you're going to be out all night."

"We were so worried!" his Ma said, without any of the calmness his Pa had. "You didn't come home and we thought you'd been kidnapped, or worse! Why didn't you call us?"

Good Cop crossed his arms and scowled at the ground. "Our phone died and we forgot the charger."

"You can't forget things like that! You should've called with someone else's phone, or borrowed a charger, or –"

"Maybe we _should've_ ," Good Cop said, "but we didn't!"

"Are you taking this seriously?!"

"It's not a big deal, Ma!"

"It is a big deal!" Ma said, raising her voice. "For all we knew, you could've been dead!"

Pa looked at her in alarm. "Dear –"

"Don't 'dear' me, Brett – what would we have done if they hadn't come home?!"

"We wouldn't have died!" Good Cop snapped.

"First you run off without letting anyone know, then you disappear all night –"

"I had a good night for the first time in like, years –"

"Gotham has the highest crime rate in the _world_ –"

"Would it be better if I had done to downtown Bricksburg, where everyone knows who we are?!"

"We didn't know where you had gone, that's the _point!_ "

Pa attempted to get a word in, but both Ma and Good Cop ignored him.

"We can take care of ourselves!"

"You got kidnapped once already!"

"Why didn't you care this much when we were working for Business?!"

Ma's face, flushed with anger, twisted in grief, and Good Cop regretted every life decision that had led him to this moment.

"Enough!" his Pa said sharply. "Gilligan, you should _not_ have said that."

"I…" Good Cop was at a loss for words. "I – I need to go, I –"

"Again?" his Ma cried.

"We'll call this time, okay? I just –" Good Cop stood up, took a step towards the door. "I need to go. I'm sorry, Ma. I don't know when we'll be back."

He turned and left, hearing his mother start to sob just as he went out the door.

* * *

Bad Cop was the one who walked them to the bus stop. Good Cop was a crumpled-up sheet of self-hatred in the back of his head, and Bad Cop wasn't sure how much he would even remember.

On the bus, everyone stared at him as he got on. Bad Cop immediately wished they had worn something different; the colorful shirt they were wearing, patterned with bright flowers, wasn't exactly inconspicuous. Then again, neither was his scribbled face; maybe they would have looked anyway.

The bus took him to the train, which took him into Gotham proper. Bad Cop didn't want to visit Batman again; it had only been a few hours since he was there last. So he ended up wandering the streets of Gotham, a very different experience during the sunny day than it had been driving through it at night. Most people didn't spare him much of a glance; people really didn't know who they were here.

He found a park and bought overpriced popcorn from a cart on the street. Sitting on a bench, he watched the people walking by, watched the kids playing catch with their parents, just _watched._

Good Cop was still unresponsive. Still there, but not in any state to talk. Bad Cop leaned back and sighed. He didn't like being out as much as he used to. He was content with letting Good Cop make the big decisions. Now that he had the opportunity to go where he wanted, make his own choices… Bad Cop wasn't sure what to do.

Someone was drawing near. Bad Cop tensed. The figure had a coat wrapped around him, a hat pulled down low over their face. They were definitely approaching him deliberately, walking straight to the bench Bad Cop was sitting at. Bad Cop forced himself not to move, even as the person sat down next to him.

"Hey," said a familiar voice. Bad Cop blinked.

"Harvey?"

"I think so." Harvey lifted his hat up slightly, enough for Bad Cop to catch a glimpse of his face. "Didn't expect to see you this soon."

Bad Cop shrugged and said nothing.

"So," Harvey said. Or was he someone else?

"Mm?"

"Why'd you retire?"

Bad Cop ate some of his popcorn, considering the question. "Got fired."

"Really?"

"Or quit. One 'f those."

"Only asking because it's _really_ hard to look you up online. We searched 'cop with two faces' and somehow got ourselves. We even went and asked –" Harvey grimaced. "– _Joker,_ since he was the one who kidnapped you, and he had no idea."

"Good," Bad Cop said. "'s better that way."

"Sounds like there's some dirt on you that you don't want anyone digging up." Harvey stood and pulled his hat back down over his face. "Let's go somewhere more private."

Bad Cop nodded and got to his feet, following Harvey out of the park and into the depths of Gotham.

* * *

Harvey led him to a warehouse that appeared to be abandoned; at least, it was a work day, and there was nobody working there. Bad Cop felt a prick of anxiety as Harvey took off his hat and gestured for Bad Cop to follow him through a door, remembering that Two-Face was a criminal, and probably someone Batman considered a "bad guy."

"You coming or what?" Harvey said, his voice tinged with impatience.

"Why did y' bring me 'ere?" Bad Cop asked.

"You seem like a good man, Bad Cop," Harvey said. "I'm not asking you to do anything illegal. Other than not reporting us to the police. Or Batman. Especially not Batman."

"Right. Doesn' answer my question."

"Well, we can't talk in public, and I thought this would be better than huddling in an alley."

"Tha's really it?" Bad Cop frowned. "'cause if y'r gonna kidnap me, I need t' call my parents."

"No kidnapping. Joker reserved this night for his own schemes."

"And y'r not working with him?"

" _No,_ we're _not,_ " Harvey snapped. "Just get in here."

Bad Cop finally relented. "Fine."

The warehouse was empty. Bad Cop kept looking around for traps, but there was nothing. Just a shell of a building. Harvey leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Bad Cop stood a little ways away, keeping some distance between them.

"What did happen to your face?" he asked.

"Wha' happened t' yours?" Bad Cop responded.

"We'll tell you if you tell us first."

"'ow do I know you'll keep up your end of the bargain?"

"You're awfully suspicious for someone who just followed a wanted criminal to a warehouse without even letting anyone know where you are."

Bad Cop's mouth twitched. "Maybe I'm making up f'r not bein' suspicious enough."

"Do you always slur your words so inconsistently?"

"What?"

"Exactly." Harvey waved his hand in the air. "Sometimes you drop the T in 'what', but just now you didn't. There's no pattern to it."

Bad Cop shrugged. "'aven't noticed a pattern myself. My face doesn' cooperate all th' time."

"So what happened to it?"

"Long story."

"We got time."

Bad Cop rolled his eyes. Harvey smirked. "Those are supposed to be sunglasses, right?" he said. "I can see your eyes underneath them. Not always, just when they move. Like someone forgot to color in the whole area."

"Tha's basically what happened," Bad Cop said. "Boss erased my face. Former boss. Friend of ours drew it back on."

"So that's not your original face? I thought it had gotten melted or something."

"Maybe _dissolved_. It was…" Bad Cop hesitated. "…not a good day f'r us."

Harvey tapped his chin, looking thoughtful. "Well, I'll hold up my end of the bargain," he said. "[There was a fire.] / [Acid got thrown on it.]  / [Was too close to an explosion.]"

_What?_

Harvey had only said one of those, but Bad Cop heard, clearly, three different sentences. He struggled for a moment to make sense of what he had heard. "Sorry, wha' was that?"

Harvey frowned. "[Someone set off a bomb in the building I was in.] / [Someone threw acid on me during a trial.] / [Got in a fight that caused an explosion.]"

"Okay, uh –"

"Got it this time? We don't like repeating ourselves."

Bad Cop decided not to ask for clarification. "Yeah. Sounds pretty bad."

"That's an understatement. I – we –"

Harvey stopped talking and scrunched up his face, covering the disfigured side with one hand, the other hand digging in his pocket. Bad Cop took a step towards him. "Are y' –"

His vision wavered and Bad Cop cut himself short, squeezing his eyes shut to ground himself. When he opened them – it was almost like there were several warehouses overlaid on top of each other, and he couldn't tell which one was real. One was empty, one was filled with rundown machinery, and one hosted a group of shady-looking people –

No, he did know which one was real. The warehouse had been empty when they got there, it wouldn't have changed without them noticing!

Just like that, his vision stabilized. He was back in the empty warehouse, Harvey steadying himself against the wall, taking deep breaths with his head down. He looked up and locked eyes with Bad Cop.

"Whatever you did," he said. "Don't do it again."

"Didn't do anything," Bad Cop said. "Wha' just happened?"

"Does it look like I know? I –" Harvey grimaced. "Let's get out of here," he said. "We'll talk some other time."

Bad Cop nodded, and they quickly exited and parted ways, Bad Cop retracing the path back to the park, and Harvey disappearing into the shadows.

* * *

_I hate myself,_ Good Cop said.

"I don' hate you," Bad Cop said in response.

_I'm a horrible person._

"Y' got mad an' said some stuff y' regret."

_And that makes me horrible._

Bad Cop quietly groaned, holding his phone to his head so that the bystanders in the coffee shop would think he was talking through that. "I don' want t' argue with y' right now."

_So I'm right!_

"Shut up. Somethin' weird happened. Do y' really not remember?"

_…I think we were at a library?_

"What. Tha's not even close. Where did y' get that from?"

_All I know is that we left the house and we always go to the library._

"Good, I 'ave no idea what y'r talking about. When was the las' time we were in a library?"

_It's a thing that happens! A thing we do, I mean. I think?_

"Seriously, shut up." Bad Cop sighed. "We were talking t'… our friend _s_ ," he said, in lieu of saying Harvey's name, "an' he said something weird."

_That's it?_

"He was saying three things at once! Tha's not something people can do! Then th' warehouse went all –"

_We were in a warehouse?_

"– _yes,_ we were in a warehouse – I don' know 'ow to describe it, it was like we were in three warehouses at once. Then I remembered which one was real, an' it went back t' normal."

Good Cop's voice came with a wave of anxiety. _Have we started hallucinating now?_

"'arvey – our friends, I mean – 'e saw it too!" Bad Cop paused, aware of how tightly he was gripping the phone. He let his grip relax. "I think. 'e noticed something was wrong, anyway. Didn' actually ask what."

_Is there anything in Gotham that could make multiple people hallucinate?_

"Dunno. Might 'ave t' ask. We don' 'ave t' be in a hurry or anything, though. What d'ya want t' do?"

_Disappear._

"Not an option."

_I don't know. I don't want to go home yet. I promised Ma I'd call…_

"I can text 'er. Don' worry."

Good Cop sent him guilt. Bad Cop sighed in exasperation.

_Are you angry at me?_

"Lil' bit."

_I'm sorry._

"'m not the one y' should be apologizing to," Bad Cop said. "But y' know that."

His phone rang in his ear and he jerked it away from his head. After recovering from the shock, Bad Cop checked the caller ID. Batman.

"Huh," he said, and answered it. "Hello?"

" _Heyyy,_ cops," came Batman's voice through the phone. It sounded like he was driving; Bad Cop could hear the crackle of wind distorted by the connection. "Wanna fight crime again tonight?"

Bad Cop considered it before asking, "Aren't y' fighting tha' guy who kidnapped us?"

"He has a _name_ , you jerks – _yes,_ I am fighting _the Joker._ Dunno how you knew that, but hey, you can get back at him for kidnapping you. Whadd'ya say?"

"Okay," said Bad Cop. "Sounds good. There's something I need t' ask about, anyway."

"Great, 'cause I'm driving to your house right now, and –"

"We're already in Gotham."

"Seriously? I have to turn around?" Batman groaned loudly. "Fine! Fine fine fine – where in Gotham are you?"

"Coffeeshop. Near a park. Kind 'f crowded."

"Real specific, cops." Batman paused. "Actually I think I know which one you're talking about. I'll be there in a few."

He hung up before Bad Cop could respond. Bad Cop rolled his eyes and put his phone away.

 _Sorry,_ said Good Cop.

"What 'r y' apologizing f'r now?" Bad Cop asked.

_You don't have to hang out with Batman just because I like him._

"Not everything's f'r you," Bad Cop said. "Maybe I like him too."

_Do you?_

Bad Cop thought about it for a long moment.

_…I'm sorry._

"I dunno if I like him," Bad Cop said. "But I told y', it's not all about you."

Good Cop retreated, but Bad Cop could still feel his guilt in the back of their mind. Bad Cop shook his head and stood up. It occurred to him that he had continued talking to Good Cop after putting away their phone, and some of the other patrons of the coffeeshop were quickly looking back down at their drinks and newspapers and pretending they hadn't been staring at him.

Oh well. Bad Cop went outside to wait for Batman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there'll be at least one (1) joke in the next chapter… because they're fighting the joker……… get it………………… I crack myself up


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this might be the last update for a while until I update some of my other fics. I mean, I say that, but I finished this chapter this morning and wrote over 1000 words of chapter ten all today, so like. what am I saying I'll probably get to chapter 16 before I end up updating my stevens universe fics.
> 
> I feel silly saying how much I love comments in the notes at every chapter but. you know the deal. Comments Are Loved and Appeciated and So Are The Commenters. thank u

Good Cop's mood had improved by the time Batman picked them up. They still had plenty of time before nightfall, so Batman informed him that they were going to the Batcave to prepare. While flying over the water to Wayne Island, Bad Cop told him what had happened in the warehouse, though he left out a few details.

"That is super weird," Batman said. "Like, was it some sort of hallucination?"

"Tha's what Good thinks. But both me an' the guy I was talking to saw it, too." Bad Cop decided not to tell Batman he had been talking to Harvey. "Is there something tha' makes multiple people hallucinate?"

"Okay, well, Scarecrow has stuff that causes hallucinations, but they're like, a thousand times worse than seeing three things at once. If you got caught in Scarecrow's fear gas I would've had to come rescue you, it's that bad."

"Huh. Never heard of Scarecrow before."

"Yeah, he's…" Batman sucked in air through his teeth. "He's… man, I feel weird all of a sudden, maybe –"

Around them, the Batmobile seemed to flicker – Bad Cop inhaled sharply. Off in the distance, he saw Wayne Manor disappear, leaving a barren island with nothing on it. Then it was back again, but it felt _wrong,_ somehow, as if this wasn't the way things were supposed to be.

_What's going on?_ Good Cop asked. Bad Cop tried to answer, but the next moment, he and Batman were flying through the air with nothing underneath them.

"Gah!"

"Wha'?!"

They had already been flying close to the water – Bad Cop barely had time to brace himself before he splashed down, and there was a moment of underwater panic before he was able to stop flailing and swim to the surface.

He broke the surface with a gasp, his body aching from the impact with the water. A wave hit hit him in the face and he sputtered and struggled to stay afloat. His right arm felt – well, it didn't feel like anything, since it was a robot prosthetic, but Bad Cop was acutely feeling its weight – metal didn't _float!_

Arms grabbed him from behind, lifting him up and keeping his head above the water. "You alright?" Batman said, while Bad Cop took deep breaths.

"Yeah," said Bad Cop, just as his prosthetic arm went dead and dropped uselessly to his side.

"What the heck just happened?"

"Dunno." Bad Cop managed to turn himself around enough to face Batman, who had an inflatable duck innertube around him. "Wasn' a hallucination, though."

Good Cop pressed to switch in, but Bad Cop wordlessly halted him. Switching would only disorient them now.

"Your arm's busted."

"Yeah."

"Robot prosthetics need a lot of upkeep. Who's your repair guy?"

"Don't 'ave one."

"Seriously? Okay. First thing when we get to the Batcave: I'm setting up an appointment for you."

"With who?"

"I'll tell 'Puter to look up someone. Whatever. I'm gonna call Alfred to pick us up."

"Your phone's waterproof?"

"Uh, yeah? Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because –" Bad Cop groaned. "Ours isn't, and our parents don' know where we are."

" _Great_. We'll put it in rice when we get home." Batman dug in his pockets for his phone, keeping one hand holding up Bad Cop. "Hey, Alfred? I'm gonna need you to pick us up."

* * *

"It disappeared?" Barbara frowned. "That's… really worrying! Also not possible."

"Hey," said Batman, now changed into a dry outfit. Bad Cop sat on a chair next to him, wrapped in a towel. Dick and Barbara were sitting with them by the fireplace while Alfred had gone to get hot drinks.

"Don't get me wrong, I believe you," Barbara said quickly. "It's just – things like that don't normally happen! Who could've done it?"

"Wasn't anyone from Gotham, I know _that_ much. Maybe we missed someone when we put all those really bad guys back in the Phantom Zone?"

"But why would they have waited this long to do anything?"

"Padre," Dick said, sitting on the floor. "Are you really alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it. Hey, is Robin ready for tonight? 'Cause like, we're still doing that."

"Sir," Alfred said, walking in with mugs of tea on a platter. "If I may, we should investigate this phenomenon before you leave. What happened before the Batmobile vanished?"

"Right!" Batman jumped up from his chair. "The cops were telling me about something weird that happened to them! They were talking to someone who said a bunch of things at once, right?"

Bad Cop took the tea Alfred offered him. "It was like… 'e said one thing, but I heard three different things. An' I could understand them all, as if 'e said them separately."

"And then the building went all weird, right?"

"Yeah. Like I was seeing three in the same place, an' only one was real, but I didn' know which one." Bad Cop frowned. "I dunno," he said. "It wasn't th' same. When we were flying…"

"I saw the whole thing, like, fade in-and-out, like some hologram thing, except it totally wasn't 'cause it was solid. And it wasn't one of those solid holograms, 'cause, I mean – it's my Batmobile! I know it! I built it!" Batman crossed his arms and scowled. "Then it just disappeared!"

"I saw th' manor disappear," Bad Cop said. "Just for a moment," he clarified, when Dick looked at him in alarm. "It came back right away."

"Whoa," Batman said. "I didn't see that. I mean, I wasn't looking. Did you guys notice anything."

Barbara shook her head. "Everything was normal over here."

"Might've just been seeing things," said Bad Cop.

"Neither of us were seeing things when the Batmobile disappeared and dumped us in the ocean," Batman said loudly.

"So what do we do?" Dick asked. "What if it happens again?"

Batman hummed softly and put a hand to his chin, tapping his foot. "Me and Robin still gotta go fight Joker," he said. "We can't, like, not do that. Babs, cops, can you look into this thing while we're gone?"

"Alright," Barbara said. "You alright with that, Bad Cop?"

"Sure," he responded.

_I'm not!_ Good Cop protested. _I was looking forward to this!_

Bad Cop tapped his helmet. "Can't fight with our arm busted. We'll sit this out."

"Your arm's _busted?_ " Barbara's eyes widened. "Like, broken? Dislocated? What –"

"It's a prosthetic. It just stopped working. See?" Bad Cop gestured at it, hanging limply by his side. "I can't take it off, but…"

"Right," Batman said. "I said I'd like, look up someone for that, 'cause they don't have a repair guy for some reason. I'll do that tomorrow. Wait, why can't you take it off?"

"Don' know how t' do it safely."

"…do you like, know anything about taking care of a prosthetic arm?"

"Not really."

"Wow. Okay. You should probably look up some video tutorials or something."

"Sure."

"Anyway," Batman said loudly, "do some investigation with Babs here. And take care of your arm. Robin and I gotta go. Dick –"

Dick jumped to his feet. "Okay, Batdad!"

He ran off, and after gulping down the tea, Batman followed him. Bad Cop shrugged and sipped at his mug, wondering how Batman drank it that fast when his own drink was still scalding hot. Alfred took Batman's empty mug back to the kitchen, leaving Bad Cop and Barbara alone.

"So," Barbara said.

"Give me a few," Bad Cop mumbled. "Still cold."

"Oh no, I'm not trying to rush you. But we should talk about where we're going when you are ready. Have you ever heard of something like this before? You did a lot of background checks at your old job, right?"

She had said it casually, with no detectable malice, but it still sent a chill through Bad Cop and Good Cop both. Barbara seemed to realize immediately.

"Oh gosh – I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to bring up – I mean, I don't know how else to say it. I know it was a really bad time for you back then."

_Understatement of the century,_ Good Cop said.

"Yeah," Bad Cop said. "How d'ya know so much, anyway?"

It was Barbara's turn to look uncomfortable. She averted her gaze and fidgeted in her seat. "Well… I don't know, it's not really…"

She trailed off. Bad Cop waited for her to continue, taking another sip of his tea.

Barbara sighed. "I applied for the same job."

Bad Cop nearly spat tea all over himself. "Y' _what?_ "

"Business wanted to hire someone to be the head of the Super Secret Police, not that he called it that. I applied. Mostly because I was fresh out of Harvard for Police, and someone recommended me, and you can't pass by an opportunity like that."

Bad Cop put down his mug; his hand was shaking so much, he didn't think he could hold it without spilling it. "Did y' make it to th' interview?"

"Yeah, actually."

"So y' met him."

"…yeah." Barbara looked up at the ceiling. "I… I don't know. I remember all throughout the interview, he seemed so… fake. I figured it was because he had already decided not to hire me. You can rationalize anything, y'know? Make up explanations that fit with how you believe the world is. I thought Business was a good guy."

She paused for a moment. "On Taco Tuesday," she said slowly, "when all those documents were released, I spent ages reading them all. All the horrible things Business planned to do. All the horrible things he already _had_ done. And I saw your file, and I heard the news, and I thought… that could've been me. Everyone hears about the horrible things that happen and say they would have done better, if it had been them, but… if it had been me, and Business had threatened my family… would I really have done anything different?"

Silence fell between them. Bad Cop felt numb. He patted his face, then picked up his mug again and pressed it to his cheek. It was very, very hot.

"Uh, Bad Cop?"

"'m fine," he said, putting the mug down again, his cheek throbbing. "Might know someone who can help us with th' investigation."

"Really? Who?"

* * *

"Ma'am, please dismantle your construct. You are trespassing on private property."

"First off, don't ever call me that again. Second, I don't care. Nobody was using it, anyway."

The copbots murmured to themselves, all gathered in front of the formerly-vacant lot. Their leader held up the megaphone again. "Miss Master Builder, I repeat, this is private property. If you do not cease building and dismantle your construct, we will be forced to arrest you."

"I'd like to see you try! Remember how many of your butts I kicked on Taco Tuesday?"

"Yes, actually," one of the copbots said before they were elbowed into silence.

"Miss Master Builder, please –"

An expertly-thrown brick knocked the chief copbot over.

"My _name,_ " the woman said, "is Wyldstyle! For now, anyway. I'm thinking about changing it again. But right now, it's Wyldstyle. Remember that, alright?"

One of the copbots helped their chief to their feet. "What do we do, Chief?" they asked. "We can't arrest her. She'll beat us all up, and I haven't backed up my memories since yesterday."

Chief beeped sadly. "But we can't let her build here! It's against the law!"

"Seriously!" Wyldstyle shouted, standing on top of her half-finished building, all black with streams of color. "Nobody is using this lot! Nobody would have noticed if Emmet hadn't snitched on me!"

"Miss Wyldstyle –"

"You guys are like, a thousand times more annoying now that you're not trying to kill me."

Wyldstyle's phone rang. She took it out and answered, keeping her eyes on the robots. "Hey, Good Cop," she said. "Any progress on figuring out that story thing?"

She frowned, the robots starting to fidget again on the ground beneath her. "That sounds… really weird," she said, "I'll be there in a little bit. I have to beat up some robots first."

"Uh-oh," said Chief.

"Yes, I do. What? If I just leave, they'll take apart my house! Yeah, I got sick of my apartment, there were too many regulations. So I found a really great empty lot to build a house in. Good Cop, do you really think I asked permission? It was empty! Nobody was using it! Then Emmet went and told the cops – yeah, the cop robots. Copbots. Whatever. I have to beat them up now. They can be restored from backups, right?"

There was a long pause while Wyldstyle listened to Good Cop on the other end. "I mean, sure?" she said. "We're at the edge of town, not too far from my apartment. You sure they'll listen to you? I mean – alright. Cool. I'll be waiting."

She put her phone away and glared at the robots. "I could totally still kick all your butts before he gets here," she said. "So, unless someone wants to volunteer to get butt kicked…"

"I will," one of the copbots began.

"NO!" the others all shouted at once.

Wyldstyle smirked.

* * *

Miraculously, all of the copbots were still intact by the time Good Cop and Barbara got there, and Wyldstyle was still standing on top of her house. Barbara pulled up some distance away from the crowd of robots, frowning at the half-finished construct. "That doesn't look like a house," she said.

"Well," Good Cop said, opening his door, and didn't finish the thought. "Hey, buddies!" he said cheerily, waving at the copbots. "How's it going?"

All the robots waved back at him with a chorus of, "Hi, Good Cop!" which was more than a little unsettling. Good Cop's smile faltered.

"Hey, Good Cop." Wyldstyle waved at him. "You gonna get these robots off my back?"

"Yep," said Good Cop, while Barbara opened her door and stood by her car, watching the scene play out. "Hey, guys?"

"We can't let her build here!" the chief copbot protested. "It's private property! She doesn't own it!"

"Really? Who does own it?"

The robots were quiet. Good Cop raised an eyebrow. "Do you not know?"

"It's not that," Chief said. "It's… uh…"

_They don't want to tell us because Business owns it,_ Bad Cop said tiredly.

"You don't want to tell us because Business owns it," Good Cop repeated.

"Yeah," said Chief.

"I'm totally not taking this down," Wyldstyle said. "I mean, I wasn't going to anyway, but now I'm _definitely_ not gonna."

"Miss –" one of the copbots started.

"And I'm gonna get a poster of Business and spraypaint it with every swear word I know."

" _Miss_ –"

Good Cop groaned. "Business isn't going to _care_ if someone uses this land!" he said. "Just let her have it. We can fill out the paperwork later."

Chief beeped a few times in rapid succession. "But…"

"You can even call him and ask!"

"Okay," said Chief, and they reached for the radio at their hip.

Panic rose up inside Good Cop and he shouted, " _Not in front of me!_ "

Chief quickly took his hand away. "Sorry!"

"What happened to the arm we made you?" one of the copbots asked.

Good Cop took a deep breath and glanced down at the prosthetic hanging at his side. "It's, erm, not waterproof."

"Man," Wyldstyle said. "You've got to tell me everything you've been up to with Batman, 'cause like, it sounds like it's been real fun."

"We got kidnapped. That wasn't fun."

"You know what I mean."

"We can fix your arm," the copbot said. "Just leave it with us. We'll have it done by tomorrow."

"Okay," Good Cop said. "But you have to leave Wyldstyle's house alone, okay? For like, forever."

Chief emulated a sigh that sounded more like the crackle of electricity. "Okay," they said. "We'll let her build here."

" _Thank_ you," said Wyldstyle. "I guess? It doesn't feel as fun if I'm allowed to do it."

"Can you just come down from there?"

"Don't get snippy with me, cops." Wyldstyle did a frontflip off the top of her construct and made her way to Good Cop, the robots quickly clearing a path. "Who's this?" she asked, gesturing at Barbara.

Barbara smiled. "Barbara Gordon, Gotham's police commissioner."

"Cool. I'm Wyldstyle. You probably already knew that."

"Okay," Good Cop said. "Let's get back in the car. Our next –"

"I call shotgun!"

Good Cop watched Wyldstyle get into the passenger's side and slam the door shut. "Okay," he said, "okay. That's fine. We can tell you the plan from the backseat. It's fine. Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my authors note at the end of last chapter? completely false. I am sorry.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey I just saw a total eclipse and it was probably the coolest thing I've ever seen in my life
> 
> also I finished the chapter today. that's cool too

Good Cop left their robot prosthetic with the copbots, and not having its weight there was a relief, even if it was something they had to adjust to. Bad Cop switched in when they got back in the car; he knew more about the plan than Good Cop did.

"Alright," he said. "Here's th' –"

"Hey, Bad Cop," Wyldstyle said, fiddling with the car's radio. "How're you doing?"

"– 'm fine. Th' plan is –"

Wyldstyle found a heavy metal station and turned the volume up.

"Th' plan is," Bad Cop said, raising his voice to be heard above the music, "we're going back t' Gotham –"

"So how's it going with Batman?"

"We can talk about that later –"

"All I heard was that he invited you to a dinner party and then you got kidnapped before reaching it. Then your parents called me this morning because you were gone all night and not answering your phone."

"This isn' really th' time –"

"Glad you're alright, by the way."

"Can we turn the music down?" Barbara asked. Wyldstyle obliged, turning the volume to a more reasonable level.

"Look," Bad Cop said. "We just wan' t' know if you're willing t' help us. If you're not –"

"I am," Wyldstyle said. "Sorry, I'm really feeling it today."

"Feeling what?"

Wyldstyle make a handwave-y gesture that clarified nothing.

"Okay," Bad Cop said. "'s fine. Can we explain th' plan now?"

"Go ahead."

Bad Cop cleared his throat. "The plan is," he said, "we're going back t' the warehouse where th' first thing happened. It might not be related to the Batmobile disappearing, but I think we should still check it out."

"Wait," Barbara said, "I just remembered this address. That warehouse has been abandoned for years. Why were you talking to someone in an abandoned warehouse?"

Well, he might as well tell the truth. Bad Cop still hesitated before speaking. "…'cause he's a wanted criminal an' he didn' want to talk in public."

"…Bad Cop, why did you go into an abandoned warehouse with a wanted criminal?"

"'Cause 'e asked me to."

"Bad Cop –"

Wyldstyle clapped her hands together. "So!" she said. "Abandoned warehouse! And you said you saw three different warehouses like, on top of each other?"

"Like they were overlaid. An' I couldn't tell which was real."

"So which one do you think we'll find when we get there?"

Bad Cop paused, considering the question. "Dunno. Could be interesting to see."

"Alright," said Wyldstyle. "So why d'you need me?"

"Wanted a Master Builder t' look at it."

"That can't be the whole reason. Batman's a Master Builder, and he saw it happen."

"Y' have more experience with magic stuff an' things that don't make sense. An' Batman's not that easy to work with."

Wyldstyle laughed. "Ha! Yeah, remember when he bailed on us before Taco Tuesday?"

"I don't know what happened then," Barbara said, "'cause I'm pretty sure his account of events is biased… but he's gotten a lot better at working with people, I'll say that much."

"Still not comfortable askin' him t' do this," Bad Cop said.

"That's fair." Wyldstyle twisted around in her seat to face him. "I've been wondering about you guys for a while, you know. Since before you went and visited me out of the blue. Have you talked to the rest of the crew lately?"

"Th' crew?"

"Benny, Metalbeard, Unikitty, y'know, the people we saved the world with. Emmet, too, I guess, but… they've got their houseguest, still."

"Ah." Bad Cop leaned back in the seat. "No, I 'aven't talked to any of them."

"You could. They want to see you. Even Metalbeard worries about you."

"I nearly killed Metalbeard."

The car made a jerk forward, a sudden motion that startled both passengers. "Sorry!" Barbara said. "Pressed the gas a bit too hard."

Wyldstyle continued talking as if there had been no interruption. "That was years ago! He forgives you."

Bad Cop inhaled and exhaled, slowly. "I didn' forgive th' person who hurt _us,_ " he said. "Why should Metalbeard forgive _me?_ "

"It's not a question of whether he _should,_ because he _does._ That's his choice. You can choose to never forgive Business – and Metalbeard doesn't forgive him either, by the way – and _we_ can all choose to forgive you."

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Bad Cop kept his expression neutral, breathing through his nose. He had known this. That the Master Builders he had saved the world with forgave them. That they weren't just tolerating them, that they genuinely liked them and cared about them.

So why did it hurt so much to hear?

"So," Wyldstyle said. "We're going to an abandoned warehouse. What's the plan after that?"

"We –" Bad Cop shook his head. "If whatever happened before happens again, we might learn somethin'. Otherwise, we could just ask around."

"I haven't been to Gotham in ages," Wyldstyle said. "Oh man, we could do all the tourist-y stuff!"

"We could also not do that," Barbara said.

"It would be great! Commissioner, you could show us around!"

"Just Barbara is fine. And, again, we don't need to do that."

"And why not?"

"It's already going to be dark by the time we get there, and I work in the morning."

"Man, you're such a killjoy."

"I am _not,_ " Barbara said, clearly offended.

"Oh, you totally are. I can tell."

"How can you tell? We just met!"

They bickered for the rest of the drive, Barbara using perhaps a little too much force on the gas pedal. Bad Cop grimaced and readied himself for a very long rest of the trip.

* * *

Barbara was right; it was dark by the time they got to the warehouse. She parked the car and got out, squinting at it. "Looks pretty normal to me."

"That's 'ow it was at first," Bad Cop said, climbing out of the back. "Only got weird when we were inside."

Wyldstyle slammed her car door shut, startling them both. "Sorry," she said when they looked at her. "We're not trying to be quiet, are we?"

"Prob'ly doesn't matter."

"Cool. Let's go in."

The three of them went inside, Barbara taking out a flashlight. The warehouse was empty, just like it had been when Bad Cop had been there with Harvey. He looked around, but noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

Barbara and Wyldstyle clearly didn't notice anything either. "Should we try to replicate the scenario?" Barbara asked. "Which wanted criminal were you here with? We kind of have a lot of them."

"'arvey. Harvey Dent."

"Oh, Two-Face?"

Wyldstyle made a choked-back noise. "There's a villain here named Two-Face? Seriously?"

Bad Cop cracked a smile. "He doesn' have two faces, if that's wha' you're wondering. Not like we do."

"So why is he called Two-Face?"

"'Cause half his face got…" Bad Cop frowned. "'e was telling me wha' happened to it when it started. I heard him say three things, an' then th' warehouse went weird."

"That's weird," Barbara said. "I know what happened to him, and it's not three different things."

"So we'll replicate th' scenario. Tell me wha' happened."

Barbara nodded. "It was a big deal for my dad back then. He – Harvey, I mean – [got kidnapped and held prisoner in a building that exploded,] / [had acid thrown on him during a court trial,] / [lost control of himself and got caught in a fire,] and –"

"Whoa, what?" Wyldstyle interrupted.

"What?" Barbara said.

Bad Cop took a moment to compose himself, as unsettled as he felt. "Y' just did the thing," he said. "Three things at once. Three different stories."

Good Cop perked up at "stories," but Bad Cop wordlessly hushed him.

Barbara laughed nervously. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said. "I said one thing… right?"

"Uh, no you didn't," Wyldstyle said. "I heard it too. You said he got kidnapped, had acid thrown on him, and got caught in a fire. Not as the same thing, I mean, but like, separate scenarios."

"That's, uhhh…" Barbara winced and put a hand to her forehead. "Ugh, sorry, I just got a really bad headache. Sorry, but like, what you said sounded really weird to me."

"'ow weird?" Bad Cop asked.

"Like… I mean… I feel like only one of those things is actually true, but I don't know which one? This really hurts, can we stop talking about it?"

"Do you think it's causing the headache?" Wyldstyle asked.

Barbara took a shuddering breath. "I don't know. Logically, it doesn't make a lot of sense."

"Hey. We're talking about the thing that made the Batmobile disappear. I think it makes more sense than that." Wyldstyle furrowed her brow. "So, do you think you can handle talking about it some more? We are trying to get to the bottom of this, after all."

Barbara's face was all the answer either of them needed.

"Maybe y' should step out f'r a bit," Bad Cop said.

"Yeah," she said. "That sounds really great. Take the flashlight, and I'll wait for you outside."

Bad Cop took the flashlight she offered, and Barbara wasted no time in going back to the door and exiting to outside. Once she was gone, Wyldstyle spoke up. "So why do you think it affected her and not us?"

"Dunno," Bad Cop said.

"Well, there's got to be some reason. Batman wasn't affected by it either, right?"

"I mean, 'e didn' do what Barbara and Harvey did. Sayin' three things at once." Bad Cop shrugged. "But nothin' happened to th' warehouse this time, so maybe they're unrelated."

"Are you sure nothing happened to the warehouse? It's kind of dark in here."

"Huh," Bad Cop said, and he shined the flashlight around the building. Nothing but dust and grime from what could've been years of disuse. He took a few steps away from the door, deeper into the warehouse, but there was still nothing out of the ordinary.

Wyldstyle followed him. "At least it wasn't a total bust," she said. "Talking about how Harvey got his face messed up caused the thing to happen. Maybe we should track him down and ask him what's up."

"Y' think?"

"Yeah? Seems to be linked to him, anyway. I dunno. Are there any other topics it happens with?"

"Not that I know of."

"So I think tracking him down is our best bet." Wyldstyle tapped her foot. "Either that or researching exactly _what_ happened to his face. Like, there's gotta be some old newspaper articles from back then, right? If we saw it written down…"

Good Cop mentally prodded Bad Cop, but went back to being quiet when he waited for an explanation. Bad Cop turned his attention back to Wyldstyle. "Yeah," he said. "Seems like a good plan. T'morrow."

"Why tomorrow? Shouldn't we get this sorted out soon?"

"Libraries are closed, prob'ly. Dunno where else t' look up old newspapers. Should wait 'til morning."

Wyldstyle sighed. "Darn. I was having fun! It's nice having something to do for once."

"You're a Master Builder. Don't y' always have something t' do?"

"Honestly? I have no idea why you would think that."

"You 'ave all this…" Bad Cop waved his hand in front of him. "Imagination. I figured…"

He trailed off. Wyldstyle shook her head. "After Taco Tuesday," she said, "all the stuff I did… kind of became obsolete! No need for a resistance if there's no need to resist. And yeah, being on the run sucked, but now that it's over, it's like… what do I do? Who even am I? It's almost enough to make me _miss_ it."

Silence fell between them. Wyldstyle cleared her throat. "Sorry," she said. "Didn't really mean to say all that. I am glad things are… better, now. Like, how can I not be?"

"'s fine," Bad Cop said. "I get it. I miss it too, sometimes."

"What?" said Wyldstyle.

 _What?_ said Good Cop.

Bad Cop realized what he said and grimaced. "Sorry. Forget I said anything. I don' ever want t' go back t' how it was."

"…alright. Me neither. Don't worry about it." Wyldstyle took a last look around the warehouse. "Let's go. I don't think anything's gonna happen. Library in the morning?"

"Sure."

"Gonna call your parents tonight so they don't end up calling everyone they know to try and find out where you are?"

"Sent a text." Bad Cop sighed. "Might go back tonight."

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"You doing alright?"

Bad Cop thought about the question for perhaps longer than what was necessary. "Yeah," he eventually said. "'s been hard. But we're fine."

"Alright," Wyldstyle said. "Now seriously, let's get out of here."

Bad Cop nodded and opened the door.

Outside, the city flickered and wavered. The lots surrounding the warehouse kept changing, from other warehouses, to rows of parked cars, to empty lots – Bad Cop and Wyldstyle stared in shock at the rapidly cycling landscape, neither of them finding any words.

Wyldstyle spoke: "You're seeing this, right?"

"Yeah," Bad Cop said.

"And if the Batmobile actually physically disappeared… that means all this is physical too, right? Like, these things are _physically_ disappearing and reappearing."

"Dunno. Prob'ly."

"Can you remember which one is the real one? 'Cause I can't."

Bad Cop hissed under his breath. Each reality flickering in front of them felt real, and even though he should know which one was real – he couldn't remember. Had there been empty lots surrounding the warehouse? Other buildings? Why hadn't he paid more attention when he got there?

He caught sight of a person, flickering through one of the realities. Barbara was leaning against the car, looking unbothered by how she was phasing in and out of existence. Bad Cop struggled to wrap her head around why she was there at first, before he remembered –

"Barbara was waiting f'r us," he said to Wyldstyle. "Th' real reality is th' one she's waiting for us in!"

And just like that, the world stabilized. Barbara started at the two of them. "Whoa, didn't see you come out. Sorry about that, I'm feeling better now. Where are we going next?"

"Uh," Wyldstyle said. "Did you notice anything weird happen out here?"

"No. Why?"

Bad Cop looked around and burned their surroundings into his mind: the warehouse was on the outskirts of town, surrounded by empty lots. He needed to remember that.

"We'll explain on th' way," he said. "Can y' drive us home?"

"Hey cops, can I crash at your place?" Wyldstyle grinned sheepishly. "My house isn't done and my apartment isn't currently livable."

"What happened to your apartment?" Barbara asked.

"Oh boy, _that's_ a fun story. I'll explain later. First, we really need to tell you what just happened…"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned 20 chapters for this thing, so technically we should be over halfway there, as can be deducted by me frantically stuffing in all the plot points I've been unable to include in previous chapters
> 
> (this is my way of saying that I might go over 20 chapters)
> 
> comments are loved & appreciated & I might actually reply to the ones on this chapter if I can make time out of my busy schedule of Depression™

Barbara really hadn't noticed anything while Wyldstyle and Bad Cop had been in the warehouse. "I didn't even see you when you first came out," she said on the drive. "You think that might've been part of it? Like, I couldn't see you until whatever happened… stopped happening?"

"Maybe," said Bad Cop. "We think it's got something t' do with wha' happened t' Harvey's face, 'cause every time it happens, we've been talking about that."

"What about with the Batmobile?"

"That 'appened after we told Batman about th' first time. Could still be related."

He saw Barbara frowning in the rear view mirror. "Do you think my headache is related?" she asked. "I mean, it could be coincidence, but I don't want to rule anything out."

"Might be. Harvey got some sort of headache th' first time, an' Batman said 'e felt weird right before th' Batmobile disappeared."

"We can test it out," Wyldstyle said. "Hey Barbara, did Harvey get his face messed up in an explosion, with acid, or, uh, a different explosion?"

Barbara winced. "Ow. Confirmed related. Please don't do that when I'm driving. Or like, at all, 'cause it _really hurts._ "

"It's an important part of the investigation!"

"It's also super painful! So stop talking about it!"

"Okay, sorry."

Wyldstyle started scanning through the radio stations. Bad Cop leaned back in his seat. He was starting to feel tired after being out for so long, but Good Cop was unusually quiet. He mentally prodded him.

_I need paper,_ Good Cop said. _And a pen._

"What d'ya need that for?"

"What?" Barbara said.

"Nothin'. Talking t' Good."

_If we get it in writing, it won't disappear!_

"What are y' talking about?"

_I've been thinking about it,_ Good Cop said, speaking with urgency. _What you said, back when the story started!_

"When did that 'appen again?"

_When we were talking with Wyldstyle! In her apartment! I mean, it started before that – you felt it, right?_

"I felt _something._ Dunno what it was.

_Well, Wyldstyle said we might not exist without the Author writing about us, and you said that we're like their children, and they'd want to be there for their kids, and way back when I met them the Author said –_

"I don' think this is related," Bad Cop interrupted.

_Of course it is! It's all in the story! Literally everything that happens is decided by them!_

"Look, I know this is like, a religious awakening for y' –"

_It's not a religion! It's just_ fact!

"You've been tryin' to tell me tha' there's someone up in th' sky controlling our lives –"

_They're not in the sky, they're in the eternal abyss, and I literally met them –_

"I don' know who y' met," Bad Cop said, "but I don' believe they're who they said they were. Y' met someone, I believe that, but…"

_There's no other explanation!_

"There's a hundred other explanations!"

_I thought you believed me! I don't want to argue about this!_

Good Cop was quickly becoming insufferable. "No," Bad Cop said, "y' just want t' be right without anyone challenging you."

_Oh my gosh shut up!_

"Funny, y' got really angry back when I stopped talking t' you f'r –"

_You stupid jerk!_

"Are you two arguing with each other?" Barbara asked.

_Tell her to shut up, too!_

"No," Bad Cop said sharply. "I mean – yes, we're arguing. T' be honest, it's none of your business."

"Sorry, it's just, uh… weird, hearing only one side of it. Anyway, we're almost to your house."

Looking out the window, Bad Cop recognized the countryside they were driving through. "Alright," he said. "Good, if y' want paper –"

_No,_ Good Cop said bitterly. _It's fine. I don't care anymore. It doesn't matter. Forget about it._

Bad Cop rolled his eyes. "Suit yourself."

Good Cop sent waves of anger at him. Bad Cop ignored it.

"You sure your parents won't mind if I stay the night?" Wyldstyle asked.

"I'm sure. They like you. Y' can even have our bed."

"Look, we're friends, but that's too weird for me."

"Couch, then. Guest room's still a work in progress."

"Works for me."

* * *

The lights were on in the house when they got there. Bad Cop offered to invite Barbara in, but she declined, citing the long drive and tomorrow morning's work obligations. They thanked her for driving, and went inside.

Despite the lights being on, the house was quiet when Bad Cop and Wyldstyle stepped through the door. "Huh," Bad Cop said, and he stuck his keys in his pocket and raised his voice. "Anyone home?"

"Living room," came his Pa's voice. "Do I hear someone with you, Malcolm?"

"Hey," said Wyldstyle.

"Yeah. Wyldstyle's stayin' th' night. That okay?"

"Fine by me."

They went into the living room, where Pa was reading a book. He looked up at Bad Cop. "Where's your arm?"

"Got busted. Copbots offered t' fix it, so I left it with them.

"Alright," Pa said, and smiled at him. "Well, I'm glad you're home. How's Gilligan doing?"

Good Cop was still fuming in their head. "Dunno," Bad Cop said. "We 'ad an argument. Sorry about th' morning."

"We can talk about it tomorrow. Your Ma went to bed early."

"Alright."

"Have either of you eaten? There's food in the kitchen if you're hungry."

"I'm actually super hungry right now," Wyldstyle said. "Haven't eaten since my apartment exploded."

Bad Cop stared at her in alarm. "Uh, what?"

"it's cool. It wasn't like, an actual explosion. It's just not livable right now."

Pa cleared his throat. "Well," he said, "you're welcome here for the night."

"Thanks. Bad Cop, show me the food."

The food was lasagna. They awkwardly stood by the microwave while it reheated, avoiding eye contact.

"So," Wyldstyle said.

"So," Bad Cop said.

"Batman, huh?"

"Yep."

"How do you like him?"

"He's alright. Good like 'im more than I do, but it's been fun. Took us t' fight crime last night."

"Cool. Can I talk to Good Cop?"

Bad Cop waited for Good Cop to say something, but the only response was an angry presence. He sighed. "No," he said bluntly.

Wyldstyle raised an eyebrow. "Argument was that bad, huh?"

"We're fine."

"So can I talk to him?"

"It's not… he's not in a state t' be talking t' people."

"But he was okay enough for an argument."

"Don' know what t' tell y', but he's not responding t' me right now. We don'…" He frowned. "'e doesn't come out when there's too much stress. I dunno."

"Huh. Alright."

The microwaved beeped at them. Bad Cop moved to take it out, but it was too heavy for one hand. Wyldstyle quickly stepped in before he dropped it, grabbing it and putting it on the counter. "Alright, let's eat."

"Hang on," Bad Cop said. "I'll get th' plates."

"I was just gonna eat it out of the pan."

"I'm getting a plate f'r myself, then."

Once the food was distributed, they sat at the table, Bad Cop with his plate and Wyldstyle with the pan. Wyldstyle hesitated before eating. "This is so weird."

"Hm?"

"I keep thinking about all the stuff that's happened. Those eight and a half years leading up to Taco Tuesday. This place seems like it's been… untouched."

Bad Cop snorted. "It definitely 'asn't been."

"I mean, I guess it'd feel different for you."

"No, I get it. It does feel like that t' us." Bad Cop tapped his fork against his plate. "Like it's safe."

"Like a place we can eat dinner together as if nothing back then ever happened."

"We wouldn't 'ave met if none of that happened."

"I guess that's true."

They ate in silence for a while. Bad Cop had a mouthful of lasagna when Wyldstyle asked, "Do you think Batman's hot?"

It took considerable effort not to spit out his food. "Excuse me?" he asked once he had swallowed.

"You heard me. I'm trying to make conversation, here."

"Wha' kind 'f conversation topic is this?"

"So are you straight?"

Bad Cop grimaced. "Didn' say that."

"So you're not straight?"

"…didn' say that either."

"So…"

She trailed off and looked at Bad Cop expectantly. He put down his fork and sighed. "Bi," he said. "With a pretty strong preference f'r men. An'… yeah, he's hot."

Wyldstyle grinned. "Yeah, I think so too. I mean, he's a jerk, but he's hot." She took a bite of her lasagna. "Sorry to put you on the spot like that," she said with her mouth full. "I'm bi, too. Dunno if I have a preference, though."

"We might not even be bi. We've only ever dated men."

"Well, I've only had one girlfriend ever, and that was a miracle." Wyldstyle made a face. "That I dated anyone at all, I mean, not that specific girl. It was high school, and high school romances… are like that."

Bad Cop put another forkful of food in his mouth.

"So," Wyldstyle said. "Batman."

"Nope," said Bad Cop.

"Not even gonna let me finish?"

"Y' asked me if I think he's hot right before askin' me if I'm straight. Doesn' take a genius t' figure that one out."

"Yeah, okay. I mean, he is a jerk."

"He's also taken."

"He's –" Wyldstyle sputtered incoherently, then wiped her mouth and continued. "By who?!" 

"Some guy 'e fights. Th' Joker."

"Okay, you're just messing with me. They're like, worst enemies."

"Greatest enemies," Bad Cop said. "An' he's really proud of that. Dunno if they're together, but it's complicated enough that we're not gonna try anything."

"Would you want to try anything?"

"Me? No. Good's th' one who gets crushes on people we barely know an' acts impulsively an' tells them 'ow much 'e likes them while they're asleep."

Wyldstyle raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Bad Cop quickly filled his mouth with more food so he wouldn't have to embarrass themselves further.

"Alright," Wyldstyle said. "I… really gotta ask him about this Joker thing. I'm pretty sure they're not actually dating. You could totally have a chance with him."

"I never said I was interested. Tell that t' Good instead."

"I totally would if he came out to talk."

"Maybe in th' morning."

"Cool."

They finished eating and put away their dishes. "I'm pretty tired," Wyldstyle said. "I'm gonna see what the couch situation is like. You don't sleep, right?"

Bad Cop rubbed his eyes. "Might sleep t'night. Gonna go t' our room."

"Alright. See you in the morning."

Wyldstyle left the kitchen. Bad Cop stood in the kitchen, listening to her talk to his Pa, until he was finally able to force himself to move and quietly slip into his room.

* * *

_You're sure you didn't write this?_

"I don't know!" Good Cop said, keeping his voice low so they wouldn't wake anyone up – it was still early in the morning, after all. "I mean, I remember waking up last night, but I thought we just went back to bed!"

On their desk, there was a note written in fast, messy handwriting, spelling out a single name: HARVEY DENT.

_Wyldstyle wouldn't have done it,_ Bad Cop said. _Did someone break into the house?_

"I don't know! Maybe I did write it!"

_But if you're sure you didn't –_

"I wanted to write stuff down last night! I probably just wrote it and forgot! We forget things all the time! I'm pretty sure we forgot our therapist appointment this week!"

_No, that's tomorrow._

"Wait, what day is it?"

_…don't know. But it's not tomorrow yet._

"Maybe we should make it today," Good Cop said, "because we are getting _worse,_ and I think this note that neither of us can remember writing proves it."

Bad Cop didn't say anything in response. Good Cop sighed.

"We _are_ getting worse," he said. "I'm sorry. I thought…"

_It's fine. I'm sorry for yelling at you last night._

"I'm sorry for existing."

_…darn it, Good._

Good Cop picked up the note and folded it so that the writing wasn't visible. "Let's pretend this didn't happen," he said, tucking the note under under a paperweight. "We don't need to tell anyone about it. Not unless someone actually did break into our house."

_We probably would've noticed if that happened._

"Yeah. So it's fine." Good Cop glanced out the window at the rising sun. "Let's have breakfast."

* * *

Wyldstyle was still asleep on the couch; Good Cop managed to get past her and to the kitchen without waking her up.

Ma was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. She looked up and smiled when Good Cop walked in. "Good morning, Gilligan."

Good Cop nearly turned and walked out again. "Morning, Ma," he said instead, forcing a smile.

If their Ma could tell it was forced, she didn't comment on it. "Have a seat," she said, gesturing at the chair across from her. "I want to talk about yesterday."

He sat down, his heart pounding. "I'm sorry," he began, but his Ma stopped him before he got any further.

"It's alright, Gilligan. I am, too. We both said things we regret."

"But –" Good Cop's hand was shaking. "I shouldn't have said that. It was – it was awful of me, and –"

"Gilligan."

"– I know you cared back then, I know – I never told you what was happening, there was no way for you to know –"

"Gilligan, it's okay."

"But I'm not! We're not okay, Ma, and –"

"Do you think I don't know that?" His Ma's voice shook, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "I feel like we – your Pa and I – have been watching you two get worse and worse, and the only thing we can do is – is take care of you, the way we should have done when you had that horrible job."

_Oh no,_ Bad Cop said. _Ma, it's not your fault! Tell her it's not her fault!_

Good Cop swallowed hard. "Ma, it's not –"

"Let me finish, Gilligan. I know you're adults, and I know you can take care of yourselves. But I'm scared." Ma wiped her eyes. Was she crying? "I am so, so scared of losing you. Ever since you were children, I've been scared."

"Ma –"

"You don't understand! So many people have tried to take you away from me. More than you know." She really was crying, her voice distorted by tears. "And – and I tried to fight them all, but it's never been _enough._ I fought the center and it took two years for you to come home. I fought Business –" She hiccuped. "– I kicked him in the face and threw him out the window and it will _never_ be enough for what he did to you, my children –"

Good Cop stood up and went to her side. "Ma…"

He hugged her, as best he could with only one arm, and she broke down into sobs and pulled him close. "I'm so sorry," she said. "Every day I wish I could've done better for you."

_You did the best you could, Ma,_ Bad Cop said, and Good Cop echoed his words. They didn't seem to help.

"You shouldn't have had to go through any of those horrible things. I have nightmares of the day we found bruises on you, only ten years old –"

"I know, Ma, but it's not your fault –"

"I worry that one day you'll – you'll just disappear, both of you, and I'll never see you again. There are some things I can't fight for you, and I'm so scared –"

"Ma…" Good Cop felt a tear run down his cheek, what was likely the first of many. "We're not going to disappear."

"Can you promise that?"

"We promise. No matter what, happens, we'll always come back." Good Cop tried to smile. "You're not going to lose us, Ma."

Ma took a deep, shuddering breath. "And I promise, I'll – I'll keep taking care of you. No matter what happens, there will always be a home for you here."

"We know, Ma. We love you."

"I love you too. Gilligan, Malcolm –" She hugged him even tighter. "I love you more than you will ever know."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up everybody it's mattecat, here with the latest chapter of "I'm writing batman fanfiction despite never reading a dc comic in my life." if you enjoy this channel remember to like, comment, and subscribe. see you in 3 days, bc I guess I'm updating every 3 days now. thanks
> 
> (this chapter is over 3000 words. like over half of it was written today. I still have like, at least 4 other fics I wanted to update. why am I like this.)
> 
>  **edit:** I keep forgetting to mention this!! if you have tumblr, you can follow legoshipping.tumblr.com for fic updates, and you can follow transkyogre for general life updates. that's all bye  
>  **edit2:** forgot I was trying not to swear in my fic OR my authors notes. I am a fool.

"You live in the middle of nowhere," Wyldstyle said after they were dropped off at the train station.

"We do not," Good Cop said. "It's only a fifteen-minute drive to the grocery store."

"Seriously? I am never leaving the city again."

The train wasn't for a few more minutes; Good Cop and Wyldstyle sat on a bench to wait. Good Cop took out his phone and saw he had a bunch of missed texts from the night before.

< hey cops its bats  
< figure anything out yet  
< u asleep or something  
< thought u didnt sleep  
< anyway  
< joker asked about u for some reason  
< asked a bunch of rly invasive questions  
< probs a distraction bc he got away but idk  
< maybe dont come 2 gotham alone tomorrow  
< actually def dont  
< ill pick u up if u need it  
< thats all bye

"That's worrisome," Good Cop said.

"What?" Wyldstyle asked, texting rapidly on her own phone.

"Batman texted me last night and told me not to come to Gotham alone."

Wyldstyle stopped texting. "Wow, uh, did he say why?"

"Erm, not really. All he said was that the Joker guy asked, I quote, 'a bunch of really invasive questions' about us."

"That's… kind of scary!"

"Yep."

"At least you're not going alone, I guess?"

"Yep."

"I'm gonna call him and tell him we're coming."

"Good idea."

Wyldstyle was still trying to get Batman to answer his phone by the time the train arrived. "Stop going to voicemail!" she was shouting into the phone as they walked onto the train and sat down. "Just pick up! Dangit! Cops, do you have his house number?"

"House number?" Good Cop echoed in confusion. "He doesn't need a house number. He's the only house on the island."

"What?"

 _Not the street number,_ Bad Cop said, _the_ phone _number. His house phone._

"Oh! Well, erm, no."

"Shoot. I'm gonna keep trying his cell."

Good Cop leaned back in his seat and stared out the window, watching the scenery scroll by.

* * *

By the time they got to Gotham, Wyldstyle had quit trying to reach Batman. "We'll deal with whatever happens," she said. "It's not like either of us are gonna have trouble defending ourselves."

"I have one arm," said Good Cop.

"Weren't you supposed to get that back from those copbots today?"

"…maybe? I think they said it would be fixed today. I hope they won't go to my house and freak out my parents."

"They are definitely going to go to your house and freak out your parents."

"Oh no," Good Cop deadpanned. "I jinxed it, right?"

"Yep. That's what happens."

The train station wasn't too far from the library, according to the map he pulled up on his phone. Good Cop was about to tell Wyldstyle to follow him when he saw that she had pulled up a map of her own and was gesturing for him to follow her, so he put his phone away. It ended up being the same route his phone had calculated, anyway.

"We know what dates we're looking for, right?" Wyldstyle asked while they walked. "That's gonna be pretty important, because I'm not going through a decade of old newspapers."

"Erm…"

 _Darn,_ Bad Cop grumbled. _That would've been a good thing to ask Barbara before she left._

"…I'll text Barbara." Good Cop took out his phone and typed out a quick message.

"Yeah, you do that. Libraries aren't exactly my idea of fun."

"They're nice" Good Cop said. "We used to go to ours all the time when we were kids. I… think? We don't really remember much of our childhood. Just…"

He shuddered. Wyldstyle looked at him in concern. "Hey, you alright?"

"I'm fine," he said. "I just… nothing. Sorry."

"I mean, I know your childhood was rough."

Good Cop stiffened, feeling Bad Cop's alarm in their shared mind. "What did Batman tell you?!"

"What? Batman didn't tell me anything. You told me yourself that your biological parents abandoned you. That's pretty rough."

"Oh. Right. Sorry." He forced himself to relax.

Wyldstyle looked down at her phone. "Okay, map says the library should be just ahead…"

"Uh-oh."

"What?" Wyldstyle jerked her head back up at where Good Cop was pointing. "Oh _no._ "

Up ahead, a there was a building that was rapidly fluctuating between several different architectural styles, some modern, some dated, all with a sign in front of them that said "GOTHAM PUBLIC LIBRARY." Wyldstyle and Good Cop stood in the middle of the sidewalk, watching it change, before they were able to tear their gazes away.

"So," Wyldstyle said. "How do we get in?"

Good Cop looked around. None of the pedestrians seemed bothered by the unstable state of the library. "Erm, we could… I don't know?"

"Back at the warehouse, it stopped because we realized which one was real," Wyldstyle said. "You don't happen to know which one's real this time, do you?"

"Nope. I have no idea what it's supposed to look like."

"We could guess?"

"That honestly terrifies me."

"Oh my gosh, are you seeing this too?!"

The new voice startled them both, and they turned to see a young man running up to them, visibly out of breath with headphones hanging around his neck and glasses askew on his face. "I was just looking for the free wifi," he said, panting, "and then the whole library went out of control! What is up with this city?"

Wyldstyle took a step back, raising her hands up between them. "Do we know you?"

"Nah, I just saw you staring. At the library, I mean. Libraries? I think there's like, a dozen of them! In the same place at once, somehow! It's wild, man!"

Good Cop blinked. "You can see this?" he said in surprise. "Nobody else…"

He gestured with his one arm at the other people on the sidewalk, who gave him some strange looks.

"I know!" the man said, throwing his arms up. "It gets worse! I try to tell them about it, and they get a headache and leave! Man, I picked like, the worst place to have a vacation."

"So you're not from here?"

"Nope! Name's Neo. I'm from Ninjago. Sorry for not introducing myself!"

He grinned and stuck out his hand. Wyldstyle and Good Cop both attempted to return the handshake at once; after a moment of confusion, Good Cop shook Neo's hand and smiled awkwardly.

"Nice to meet you, buddy!" he said. "I'm, erm, Good Cop. Ninjago, huh? That's way across the ocean, isn't it?"

"Yeah!" Neo said. "Way, way over thattaway!"

He pointed at a brick wall. Good Cop raised an eyebrow. "Erm, the ocean's not that way."

"Oh, right, my bad." Neo pointed in an equally wrong direction.

Wyldstyle rolled her eyes. "Name's Wyldstyle," she said, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "Do you have any idea how this happened?"

"What, the library thing? No, man, I just found it like this!"

"Huh," she said. "Good Cop, do you think this is anything like the warehouse?"

Neo's eyes widened. "Whoa, it happened before?"

"Erm, yes," Good Cop said. "To both questions. We've been trying to figure out why, but… you mentioned that nobody in Gotham can see this?"

Neo nodded eagerly. "I mean, I tried to tell people, and they just started getting headaches and telling me to go away. Maybe they think it's normal 'cause it happens all the time or something?"

"I really don't think that's the case," Wyldstyle said. "I was in Gotham like, a year ago, and it was pretty normal then! So what's going on now?"

"Beats me," said Neo. "I'm just glad someone doesn't think I'm nuts."

"Let's get out of the middle of the street before everyone thinks we're all nuts," Wyldstyle said.

Good Cop realized that they were attracting a _lot_ of strange looks, and his heart started pounding. "Yeah," he said. "Sounds great! How about over there?"

He pointed at the first spot that caught his eye – a dark alley. Wyldstyle nodded. "Looks pretty out of the way," she said. "We probably won't be bothered there. Great idea!"

* * *

"Hey, cops!" said the Joker.

"Oh jeez," said Good Cop.

"Wow, okay," said Wyldstyle. "I'd tell you this was a stupid idea, Good Cop, but y'know, I think we're all sharing the blame. We both followed you in here."

The alleyway was a dead end. The Joker blocked the way they came in. Wyldstyle's eyes were darting around the alley at the bricks lying around. Neo was currently trying and failing to climb over the wire fence that blocked the other end. Good Cop felt Bad Cop pushing for control, and he was more than willing to give it to him.

Once switched out, Bad Cop scowled and took a step forward, only for Wyldstyle to put an arm in front of him, blocking his way. "One arm, Bad Cop!" she said. "I'll do the fighting!"

"I can 'andle myself –"

"Oh, no need to put on that attitude," the Joker said, advancing towards them with a grin. He was wearing a different outfit this time, a patterned purple vest over a mustard-colored shirt, instead of the purple suit with tailcoats. "I just want to have a nice chat. We do have a mutual friend, after all!"

"I don't know these people!" Neo shouted, balancing awkwardly on top of a trash can.

The Joker ignored him. "Anyway," he continued, "we should go somewhere more private. It might be a dark, dirty alleyway, but it _is_ almost noon, and it's unusual for me to be out in broad daylight! Ha ha!"

"Do you honestly think we're gonna go anywhere with you?" Wyldstyle snapped. "Bad Cop, _stay behind me,_ " she added, when Bad Cop attempted again to approach the Joker.

"Well, I can't say I expected it to be easy…" The Joker laughed. "…so consider me pleasantly surprised! You're up, Ivy!"

"Oh no," said Wyldstyle, just before vines burst from the ground and wrapped around all three of them, covering their mouths and muffling their yells. A sweet-smelling fragrance clogged Bad Cop's senses, and even as he fought to stay awake, drowsiness overwhelmed him and he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

When he woke up, he was tied to a chair. Bad Cop shook his head to dispel the fog clouding his mind, then squinted to make out who was standing in front of them.

"Finally!" the Joker said. "Took you long enough!"

"Oh boy," Bad Cop mumbled. "Good Cop…?"

There was so much fog clouding his mind, it took a while for a response to come. _We're gonna die._

"We're not…" He groaned. "Head hurts. What d'ya want?"

"I told you," the Joker said, his grin gone from his face. "I just want to have a chat. Didn't expect you guys to be knocked out for that long, I'll say that much!"

Did "you guys" mean him and Good Cop? Bad Cop looked around. There were others in the room, he realized; a handful of characters dressed in colorful costumes, none of whom were tied to chairs. He recognized Harley Quinn and nobody else. Wyldstyle and Neo weren't there.

"Can't you get on with it?" someone shouted, a man dressed in a green suit patterned with question marks.

"Certainly!" The Joker leaned in close to him. "Where is Two-Face?"

"What?" said Bad Cop.

"Don't play games with me! Contrary to my usual mannerisms, this is a serious situation. And we know you've got something to do with it!"

"I 'ave no idea wha' you're talking about," Bad Cop said.

The Joker scowled. "Did you talk with him yesterday or no?"

"Yeah, but I didn' –"

"Because nobody's seen him since he asked me about you two," he continued, "and before you ask, we've checked all the prisons, all of his hideouts he's told us about, a few of the ones he hasn't – and believe me, I would never go to all this trouble if I didn't know something was seriously wrong!"

"Still don' know –"

"I mean, _seriously_ wrong! Tell 'em, girlbuddy!"

Harley rolled forward on her skates and crossed her arms. "He's gone from all the pictures on my phone!" she said. "It's honestly the creepiest thing that's ever happened to me."

Bad Cop just stared at her. "'ow does that even happen?"

"And like, he never gave me his number, but his contact's disappeared off the phone of the people he _did_ give it to!"

"Tha' doesn' make any sense."

"Come on!" the Joker said loudly. "You can't possibly be telling me that you don't know what happened, either! This is like, the fourth dead end we've hit!"

Murmurs went up in the small group of gathered villains. Bad Cop shook his head again. "'m sorry, we don'…"

Something clicked in his mind. Good Cop was pressing for control. _I told you, Bad!_ he said. _I mean, I didn't think this would happen, but –_

"Hang on," Bad Cop said. "My partner might…"

_I can help, Bad!_

"…alright. Here."

Their faces spun around, and Good Cop hesitated. Seeing the Joker glaring at him was a little bit unnerving.

"Well?" the Joker said. "You might what? You might know something?"

"It's, erm…" Good Cop bit his lip. "…a bit of a long story. But there's been weird things going on ever since we met with Harvey – sorry, Two-Face, and… maybe it's related? It started when he was telling us what happened with his face…"

He quickly summarized what had happened; the different histories, the realities overlapping, the Batmobile disappearing. "I don't know why it's happening," he said, while the Joker looked at him skeptically. "But… I have a theory. It, erm, it might not be accurate, but… what if the world was all a story someone wrote?"

He waited for a response, but the Joker didn't say anything, just tapped his foot and gestured for him to continue.

"So, erm…" Good Cop felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead. "My friend said – I mean, when I told her about this – she said that we might not even exist without the Author – without someone writing the story, and, erm, I didn't think that was true, because it's terrifying, but –"

"How is this related again?" the Joker asked.

"Erm, well, because…" Good Cop struggled to form words. "Because… erm…"

 _You met the Author,_ Bad Cop said. _Isn't that what you told me?_

"I met someone who – who called themself the Author, and… and…"

_What did they tell you?_

"I thought you didn't believe me!"

"What?"

"Not you," Good Cop quickly said to the Joker. "I was talking to Bad Cop." He cleared his throat and continued. "The Author told me a lot of things, back then, and – and – I don't know if they were true, but…"

It was hard, remembering that moment. Not that he had any trouble remembering it – he could practically feel himself falling, feel the wind roaring in his ears, the sound drowning out his own screams – Good Cop shuddered. It had been the worst day of his life, and nothing the Joker did to him now could compare.

But if Harvey was _gone_ –

"They said they borrowed people – characters," he said. "That they wrote about universes that weren't their own."

"Sounds like a really pretentious way of saying they write fanfiction," the Joker said.

"That means they don't decide our histories, right? That they're working with what other people have given them, right?"

"So what?"

Good Cop took a deep breath. "Harvey had three histories," he said. "Three different stories of how his face was scarred. Maybe… maybe it's like what happened with the warehouse. What happened with the library. Realities overlapping with each other. Maybe if we realize which story is _real,_ he'll come back."

"Maybe you're talking out of your butt," the Joker said. "'Cause all that sounds like a load of –"

"Prove it," Harley interrupted.

"What?"

Harley ignore the Joker and skated in front of him. "Prove it," she said to Good Cop. "Bring him back right now."

The other villains voiced their agreements. Good Cop swallowed hard. "But – I don't know which story is real, I don't –"

"Then guess. I actually like Two-Face! Sure, he's got his issues – but who doesn't?" Harley glared at him. "And seeing him gone from those pictures is super creepy. So do what you gotta do, and do it fast."

"But it can't be that easy!" Good Cop cried. "There's no way! I mean, I might've made it _sound_ easy, but –"

"Times running out, cops!"

"Running out – for what?!"

"Until we get tired of questioning you and throw you in the deathtrap with the others," Harley said.

Good Cop felt the blood drain out of his face. "Oh no –"

_Calm down, Good –_

"I can't calm down!" he hissed under his breath. "I was right! We really are gonna die!"

_All we need to do is decide how Harvey's face got scarred._

"It's not going to work! Nothing's gonna happen!"

 _I know,_ Bad Cop said. _But we're running out of options. We need to buy time until someone comes to rescue us. Just think. How could that kind of damage happen?_

"Okay." Good Cop took a deep breath. "Okay. Harvey's face…"

He thought back to their first meeting. How it looked like the very bricks that formed his body had been damaged. That kind of damage – only a relic could do it, like the ones Business had collected. Good Cop shuddered.

But that was a start. It had to have been a relic. Either something that could cause an explosion, or some sort of acid –

– acid that could _physically change someone's face_ , like what Lord Business had –

"Oh my gosh," Good Cop said in horror. "It was – it was that – the same – someone must have – oh my gosh –"

"What now?" the Joker said. "Y'know, I think time's run out!"

"Wait! I know what happened!"

"And is Two-Face here? Nope!" The Joker turned and walked away, taking out a radio as he did so. "Hey, everything good over there? No? Well –"

"What are you all doing in our hideout?!"

Everyone turned to the door. Harvey glared at them all. "We're going to flip this coin," he said, "and if it's the clean side, we'll ask you to leave nicely. If it's the _other_ side –"

The Joker chucked the radio over his shoulder. "Never mind! He's back!"

"Yay!" everyone cheered. Harvey wasn't amused.

"Oh, would you look at that," he said, pulling out a comically oversized gun. "It was the scarred side. Get out of here!"

Good Cop sat there dumbfounded through the resulting chaos and gunfire – not that he could do anything else. Once everyone had managed to get out the door with minimal harm, Harvey tossed the gun to the side and stormed over to where Good Cop was still tied to the chair. "Stupid jerks," he muttered as he crouched down and worked at the knots. "Was this their idea of a joke? What am I saying, of course it was."

"Sorry," Good Cop said.

"What are you apologizing for?" Harvey pulled the ropes off him. "There you go. Your friends are fine, by the way. They're across the street."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Depends."

Good Cop stood up, his legs wobbly from sitting so long. "What happened to your face?" he said.

Harvey snorted. "Told you. Acid got thrown on it. Not any kind I've heard of before, either. Did some nasty damage, as you can tell."

"Okay," said Good Cop. "That's all I needed. Thank you for rescuing me."

"Whatever. Just get out of here."

He gave him a rough shove towards the door. Good Cop stumbled, caught himself, and stepped out into the hall. It was time to rejoin the others.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me this morning: I'm in a really bad depression rut, I probably should tell everyone that I'm not gonna finish the chapter today
> 
> me an hour ago: **I'm here to write lego fanfics and drink pepsi. _and i'm all out of pepsi_**
> 
> comments are welcomed & loved. thanks 4 reading despite me waiting until the 13th chapter to put the first Solid Evidence of the ship I tagged the fic with in at the beginning.

When Harvey said the others were across the street, Good Cop had assumed he meant an actual street. Instead, after walking through a dingy tunnel, Good Cop stepped out into an underground subway. Across the tracks was a narrow opening, half-hidden by old boxes. He carefully crossed, listening carefully for any signs of a train, then shoved the moldy cardboard out of his way and squeezed into the tunnel.

"What was that?"

"Shhh!"

That was Neo and – "Wyldstyle?" Good Cop called out. "Is that you?"

"Good Cop!" That was unmistakably Wyldstyle. Good Cop squinted in the dim light and saw her stand up with Neo beside her. "Oh my gosh, I'm _so_ glad you're okay. What happened?"

"We're fine," he said. "I'll tell you later. More importantly, are you okay? They said they threw you in a deathtrap!"

"It was the most terrifying experience of my life," Neo said. "And I live in freakin' _Ninjago City._ Do you have any idea what stuff goes on in Ninjago City?"

"Come on, it wasn't that bad. The trap wouldn't have even gone off if I hadn't woken up the cat while escaping, which set off the balloon, which set off the marbles, which set off –"

"Ah," said Good Cop. "That kind of deathtrap."

"Yep. It was supposed to set the room on fire in the end, but we stopped it."

"I saved the cat!"

"I know you saved the cat, Neo."

"Okay," said Good Cop. "Well, I'm pretty sure we're free to go. Harvey kicked everyone else out."

"Cool," said Wyldstyle. "Any idea how to get out of here?"

Back out at the tracks, they spotted a ladder leading up to a loose grate, which they were able to lift up and crawl out into an alley. "Man!" Neo said, while Wyldstyle helped him out from the hole. "No offense, but please don't ever hang out with me again."

"Oh, come on," Wyldstyle said. "It wasn't that bad."

"We almost died!" Neo brushed himself off. "I could be dead right now! What kind of things do you normally do that this isn't a big deal for you?!"

Wyldstyle flinched, but before Good Cop could ask if she was alright, his phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID before answering with a smile. "Hi, Batman –"

"I told you not to come to Gotham!"

Good Cop winced at Batman's raised voice. "I'm sorry! I was just trying to –"

"To what? Get yourself hurt? Like, really badly? Because you could have! Gotten hurt really badly!"

"I know, I didn't mean –"

"Like, I wouldn't have told you not to come if it wasn't serious!"

"Who's on the phone?" Wyldstyle asked. "Is it Batman? I can hear him shouting at you."

"You guys know _Batman?_ " Neo exclaimed.

Good Cop could feel his heart start to race. "Batman, I'm sorry!" he said, his voice shaking. "I didn't know this would happen!"

"Yeah, you better be sorry, 'cause –"

Wyldstyle grabbed the phone away from him. "Hey!" she shouted. "Shut up! I tried calling you like, a bazillion times before we got here, and you never picked up! Or called me back or anything! So like, shut up!"

Good Cop took a few deep breaths while Wyldstyle listened on the phone. "We're fine," she said in exasperation. "It was the worst deathtrap I've ever seen. I dunno how you ever had any trouble with these guys. Yeah, whatever. We're in some alley somewhere. Hey Neo, can you check the street sign?"

* * *

Neo was over the moon at the opportunity to meet Batman, bouncing from one foot to the other as he waited outside the alley. "Is that him?" he asked, pointing at a black car driving by.

"No," said Wyldstyle.

"Is that him?"

"No again."

"Is that –"

"Trust me, you'll know when it's him."

"I changed my mind, I'll hang out with you all the time if it means I get to meet Batman."

" _Uhh_ –"

One of the Batmobiles – not the one that had disappeared, but they all looked similar – screeched to a stop in front of them. Neo jumped back with a yell. After a moment, Batman popped open the hatch and cleared his throat. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," said Wyldstyle. "You're a jerk, did you know that?"

"I'll be honest with you," Batman said. "You're not the first person to tell me that."

"And you know what? I'm not gonna be the last."

"Who's this dude?"

" _Hi I'm Neo I'm from Ninjago it's great to meet you can I get your autograph –_ "

"Cool," said Batman. "Everyone get in."

They all climbed inside. Good Cop sat himself next to the driver's seat and stared out the window, with Batman hopping back in as soon as everyone was seated.

"Hey," Batman said. "I just wanted to say…"

Good Cop turned to look at him. Batman had his face scrunched up in a way that looked like he was either eating something sour or having gut cramps.

"…that I'm _really…_ "

Good Cop raised an eyebrow.

"…really really really…"

Wyldstyle made a small sound of amusement from the back seat.

"…really…" Batman sucked in a breath. "…feeling… like… I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"Oh," said Good Cop. "It's fine. I'm sorry, too."

"So I'm gonna make it up to you." Batman turned the car on. "Somehow. Whaddya want me to do?"

"What?" Good Cop said in surprise. "You don't have to –"

"Seriously. Anything."

"Erm…" He spotted Wyldstyle wagging her eyebrows in the rear view mirror. Bad Cop had told him the conversation they had the night before, but… it was funny, how fast she switched from "Batman is a jerk" to "You should ask Batman on a date. Do it. You know you want to."

 _I know what you're thinking,_ Bad Cop said. _Don't do it. I told you, from what we heard about him and the Joker –_

" _Seriously_ seriously. You have no idea how serious I am right now."

_– I know you like him but it's not a good idea to –_

"Dinner and a movie," said Good Cop.

_– do that. It's not a good idea to do exactly what you just did. Why don't you ever listen to me?_

"Alright," said Batman. "What movie?"

"Erm –" The words had just slipped out. Good Cop hadn't thought this far ahead, and now his anxiety levels were rising rapidly. "I, erm, don't know what's playing."

"Cool. We'll probably just watch an old one at my place. That cool?"

"Okay," Good Cop said, his heart pounding.

 _Hey,_ Bad Cop said. _It might be alright after all. Maybe he doesn't realize you meant it as a date._

"Dude," Neo said in wonder. "Are you going on a date with Batman? That's awesome!"

Good Cop closed his eyes briefly and desperately wished he was somewhere else.

"What?" said Batman. "Haha, no way, I'm pretty sure he didn't mean it like that, right?"

"Oh no," Good Cop said, "I meant it entirely like that."

He could feel his face turning red, and he stared straight ahead through the windshield. Batman was staring at him in the corner of his vision, but he couldn't make out his expression. He forced himself not to look.

"Oh," Batman said. "Uh. That's cool. What time?"

"It's okay," Good Cop said. "If you don't want to –"

"I said I'd make it up to you and I will. How does getting picked up at ten sound?"

"I – tonight?"

"Unless you want to like, chill by yourself. You've had a rough couple days. I can pick you up tomorrow night instead."

"No, erm, tonight is fine." Was this really happening? It didn't feel like Bad Cop could believe it either. Good Cop swallowed. "You really…?"

"Bruno will pick you up, though. So don't tell your parents that I'm coming. 'Cause I'm not."

"Who's Bruno?" Neo asked, and Good Cop remembered abruptly that there were other people in the car. His face, if possible, burned even hotter.

"Hey, Neo," Wyldstyle said loudly. "Where should we drop you off?"

"I mean, I don't have to be dropped off first, I can come along for the ride –"

"The two of us live in Bricksburg. You probably have a hotel or something here in Gotham, right? It'll be easier to go there first."

Neo sighed. "Okay…"

They dropped off Neo at his hotel after promising he could hang out with them again sometime. Batman flew the car away while Neo waved at them. "He's not a bad guy," Wyldstyle commented. "I mean, I barely know him, but he's not bad."

"He's a little obnoxious," Good Cop said.

"He did get kidnapped because of us."

"Well… yes." Good Cop shifted awkwardly in his seat. "He might be able to help with the investigation, though."

"Hey," Batman said. "What's going on with that, anyway? Did you figure out why the Batmobile disappeared?"

Good Cop hesitated. "We found out some things, but… I don't know what to think of it. Do you know why we were kidnapped?"

"Just now? 'Cause the Joker's a jerk. More like the Joke… jerk."

"Uh, no," said Wyldstyle. "I mean, yes, but a ton of stuff happened since the last time we saw you. Let's start from the top…"

They told Batman about all the events of the last two days on the flight back to Bricksburg, ending with Good Cop explaining what happened when he had been separated from Wyldstyle. "So Harvey's back now," he finished, "but we don't know why he disappeared, and we don't know what to do if it happens again. And nobody in Gotham seems to notice until something disappears!"

"I would totally notice," Batman said. "I mean, if I saw it happening."

"Actually," Wyldstyle said, "it'd be interesting to see if it affected you differently. You're the only Master Builder in Gotham, right?"

"I dunno, Dick built this pillow fort the other day that was pretty impressive."

"I'm pretty sure all kids build pillow forts."

"He took apart the piano to do it."

"…okay," Wyldstyle said. "My point was, you should totally come with us on this investigation. Both to help us figure this out and also to make sure we don't get kidnapped again."

"Sure," Batman said. "Just don't wake me up before, like, noon."

"That's an improvement. Back when we were dating I couldn't call you until the evening."

"Well, Dick likes it when I have breakfast with him. I just go back to bed when he goes to school. This is your new place, right?"

True to their word, the copbots hadn't dismantled Wyldstyle's house, and it was still in the lot in its half-finished state. Wyldstyle jumped out of the car after they had landed and looked it over. "I think I might redo the whole thing, I'm not really feeling the way it's structured. Looks too much like a house."

"I thought it was supposed to be a house?" Good Cop said.

"Yeah," Wyldstyle said, and offered no further explanation.

Batman stuck his head out of the hatch. "The black looks good. Could cut down on the rainbows, I think."

"This is my house, not yours. Go get ready for your date."

He slammed the hatch shut. "'Kay bye Wyldstyle see you later!"

"What?" Wyldstyle called out, but Batman was already slamming on the accelerator and flying away.

Up in the air again, Batman steered the Batmobile towards the countryside. "So Bruce Wayne will pick you up at ten," he said. "Wear something nice for the restaurant. Do you still have the tuxedo I loaned you?"

"Oh jeez," Good Cop said. "I wasn't, erm, expecting a restaurant _that_ nice."

"What? It's not like, a _really_ fancy restaurant. You just have to wear a tuxedo, but that's normal."

Good Cop thought of the last time he and his parents had gone out to eat; it had been a diner with bad service and food that barely made up for the rude waiters, and he had worn shorts and a tropical shirt. "Are you sure that's normal?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah? What kind of restaurants do you usually go to?"

Good Cop decided not to argue. "Never mind. Yeah, I think I still have the tuxedo."

"I mean, if you don't, I can probably loan you another one."

"I'm pretty sure I still have it."

"I'll bring you another one just in case."

The reality of the situation was starting to sink in. He was going on a date! With Batman! Who was also Bruce Wayne! And he _knew_ that Good Cop intended it as a date – and he was still on board with it! Good Cop's heart was pounding again. Wyldstyle had been supportive. There had been no hurtful comments from Neo. It didn't feel real. Was this really happening? Was this _really happening?_

"Dude. You alright?"

"I'm okay!" Good Cop squeaked.

"…you sure? 'Cause your face is all red."

"I know!"

Batman glanced at him. "This isn't, like, a joke or anything, is it?"

"What!" Good Cop exclaimed. "Of course not! I wouldn't do that!"

"So when you said 'dinner and a movie' –"

"I genuinely, one hundred percent, intended it as a romantic date." Doubt flared up inside him. "Is that… okay?"

"Yeah!" Batman said quickly. "Yeah. Just, uh, making sure. So I know what's up. Okay. Cool. We're near your house, right?"

Good Cop looked out the window. Sure enough, he could see the familiar countryside beneath them. "Yep, we're close."

"Alright. Should be there soon."

They landed at the end of the driveway. It wasn't that late; Good Cop hadn't even missed dinner. Except he was going to have dinner with Bruce Wayne, so maybe he should skip it anyway? Or maybe if he had it early it would be more like lunch because he hadn't had lunch yet and –

"You sure you're alright?"

Good Cop started. "Yep! Just… erm… distracted."

"Cool. Well, we're here."

Batman popped open the hatch. Good Cop climbed out and turned back to him. "I'll, erm, see you… tonight?"

"It's, uh, pretty established at this point, yeah."

"Okay," said Good Cop. "I'll see you then."

"Cool."

"Okay."

They stared at each other in awkward silence for a while longer, until Batman said, "Bye," and took off. Good Cop watched him go and took a deep breath before breaking out into a grin.

"We have a date!" he whispered.

 _Don't get too excited,_ Bad Cop grumbled. _We're probably gonna get murdered by a clown._

"We have a _date!_ " Good Cop hopped up and down.

 _You mean_ you _have a date. I'm still wondering why Wyldstyle wanted to hook us up with her ex-boyfriend_.

"Don't be like that, I know you think he's hot!"

_That's not the only factor in deciding to date someone._

"I mean, maybe it won't work out and maybe it'll come crashing down on us and maybe we'll be miserable –" Good Cop couldn't stop grinning. "– but aren't you curious? Don't you want to see what happens?"

Bad Cop was quiet for a few moments. _…you really like this guy, don't you?_

"I mean, obviously it's just infatuation and we need to get to know him before anything else happens, but that's what dates are for, right? Getting to know someone?"

_I guess, yeah. Still think we're gonna get clown-murdered._

"Don't worry, buddy, if he's _actually_ involved with someone else, and it turns out he's cheating with us, we'll tell everyone and all go murder him together. I bet Wyldstyle and Barbara will help us if that happens."

_Huh. You've got this all figured out._

"Of course I do!" Good Cop turned and started walking to their front door. "Let's let Ma and Pa know!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell I really hate the trope of "one person thinks it's platonic and the other was intending for it to be romantic but hides it and suffers" bc I really hate it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I'm a little late with this chapter (broke my streak of updating every 3 days) but it's literally 4000 words long so like. it's cool.
> 
> comments are loved & appreciated, hope u enjoy Pure Gay Lego Fluff

Ma was overjoyed. "A date! That's so exciting, I'm so proud of you! Oh dear, am I being embarrassing?"

Good Cop laughed. "Yep," he said. "But it's okay! As long as you don't embarrass us in front of Bruce, it's fine."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll get my fill of embarrassing you out now, then." Ma smiled at him. "I am a little surprised, though. You've only known him for… less than a week!"

"Well, we're not expecting it to go anywhere yet. It'll be alright if things don't work out on the first date." Good Cop's cheeks were still red, and he still had a stupid grin stuck on his face. "I hope it does, though," he admitted. "He's really nice, Ma."

"He certainly seemed nice when he was here," Ma said. "If a little… hmm."

"A little what?"

"Never mind, dear."

"A little _what?_ Tell me!"

"It's not important," Ma said brightly, turning away and busying herself with the kitchen dishes. "You know I would tell you if it was anything bad. You've had lunch, right?"

"Oh! No, actually."

"Really? I assumed you would've got something in Gotham. What did you do all day?"

"Not much," Good Cop lied. "We spent part of the day in the library with Wyldstyle, then we hung out with some of Batman's friends for a little while. Nothing really interesting happened."

"You got a date! I'd call that interesting."

"It's not _that_ interesting. I told you, we're not expecting anything to happen." He laughed nervously. "Hoping, maybe, but…"

"I'm sure it'll go wonderfully, dear."

"I hope so, Ma. I really, really hope so."

* * *

Bad Cop spent most of the time before the date writing down everything they knew about the overlapping history phenomenon, as he was thinking of it now. "R'member, Good," he mumbled. "We need t' ask him –"

_It's a date! We need to enjoy ourselves!_

"This is _important._ People 'ave disappeared. What if we get there an' the universe doesn' know which restaurant's real?"

_It'll be fine, don't worry so much._

"Y' don' know that!"

_I believe it, and that's enough._

Bad Cop groaned. "Look, I want this t' go well as much as you do. But I also want t' solve this thing. How did Harvey reappear like that? How did 'e disappear in th' first place?"

_Can't we have one night where we don't think about this?_

"No. We can't."

_Malcolm…_

He paused mid word. Good Cop rarely used his real name. He could feel a – a strange emotion, one that was hard to name. Longing, or loneliness, maybe. Like there was a hole in their shared life that was eating away at them. Whose emotion was this? His or Good's? Both?

_…are you okay?_

Good Cop seemed fine, if worried. Bad Cop put down the pen. "'m fine," he said. "I just… remembered some things."

_Talk to me, buddy._

"'s not…"

A jumble of half-remembered scenes struck them like a lightning bolt. Crouching in the library with a notebook and a pen. Wearing long sleeves in the hot sun. Screaming and sobbing as the door closed. Staring at a name written in the books, a name that was neither Gilligan or Malcolm –

Good Cop forcibly took control, staring down at the writing on the desk in front of him. He took several deep breaths. "Bad Cop?" he said out loud. "Malcolm?"

_I'm here._

He hesitated. "Is there… someone else?"

There was no response at first. Then Bad Cop said, _Look, whatever just happened, it doesn't necessarily mean –_

"I mean, it'd explain finding a note on our desk that we don't remember writing." Good Cop tried to clear his mind, listening for a stray thought that wan't his or Bad Cop's, but there was only silence. He sighed and slumped facedown onto the desk.

_What time is it?_ Bad Cop asked.

Good Cop jerked his head up to the clock on the wall. Nine thirty. "Oh jeez," he said. "We need to get ready!"

_He'll forgive us if we're a little late getting ready._

"Still!" Good Cop forced himself to stand. "I want to have a good time tonight, and that starts with being _on_ time! Where did we put the tuxedo?"

* * *

Their parents had gone to bed by the time it was ten. Good Cop felt bad about it, but he was grateful. It was embarrassing enough that they lived in their parents' house at the age of thirty-four. He sent a quick text – _parents are asleep, don't ring the doorbell, text us when you get here and we'll come out to meet you_ – and sat down on the couch to wait.

His phone buzzed. _k im here_

Good Cop swallowed hard. "Maybe this was a bad idea," he said quietly. "I shouldn't be – I wouldn't be anxious to go on a date with someone if I really _wanted_ to date them, right?"

_You'll be fine,_ Bad Cop said. _You wanted to be on time, right?_

"Okay. You're right." Good Cop stood up. "Let's go."

He took a deep breath and stepped outside.

Bruce Wayne was sitting in the driver's seat of an expensive-looking car, his arm hanging out the window. He waved at Good Cop when he saw him come out of the house, and Good Cop felt – well, he felt anxiety, mostly, but there was something else, something that gave him the strength to lock the door behind him and walk out to the car.

"Hi," he said.

"Hey," said Bruce. "Hope you don't mind me driving tonight."

"Why would I mind?"

"Alfred usually insists on driving, but it'd be _super_ embarrassing to have my father-figure drive me on a date. I mean, can you imagine?" Bruce tapped his fingers against the side of the car. "So yeah. I'm driving."

"Okay," Good Cop said. He barely heard anything that was said over the echo of Bruce calling it a date, but he figured it was fine. "I don't mind."

"Alright. Let's head out."

Good Cop got in the car, his pulse thumping loudly in his ears. Bruce pulled out of the driveway – Good Cop hadn't even noticed the car was running, it was so quiet – and hit the accelerator hard. "Hang on," he said belatedly, after Good Cop was thrown back into the seat. "You alright?"

"Yep!" Good Cop squeaked. He wasn't sure, but he had an idea as to why Alfred insisted on driving most of the time.

* * *

They made it to the restaurant with no casualties; Good Cop had thought they wouldn't, a couple times during the drive, but here they were, getting out of the car with no bodily harm done to them or anyone else. Bruce tossed the keys to the valet, and grinned at Good Cop. "This is a great place, there's like, no one here this late. Shall we?"

"Yep!" said Good Cop, still rattled from the drive.

Once they were seated, Good Cop took several deep breaths, trying to get his anxiety under control. He shouldn't be freaking out, this was what he wanted! To go on a date with the guy he liked! So why was he so anxious?

"You're not looking too good," Bruce commented. "Everything alright?"

"Of course!" Good Cop said quickly. "I'm just, erm, a little stressed. Not because of you, I just, erm…"

"Had a stressful couple days, huh?" Bruce cracked a smile. "I can relate. My, uh, _roommate_ was pretty freaked out when he woke up and saw all those missed calls from Wyldstyle."

"Yeah," Good Cop said. "I'm really sorry about that. We figured we weren't alone, so we'd be okay, but…"

"Hey, look. You don't have to be sorry. I told you not to go alone, and you didn't go alone. Not your fault." Bruce took a sip of his water. "By the way, I swung by the library after you were dropped off. Looked normal to me, but it might be worth checking out together."

"Sounds good."

_Ask him to describe what it looked like,_ Bad Cop said.

Good Cop tapped the back of his helmet. "Shut up, Bad," he whispered.

"What?" Bruce asked.

"Nothing, sorry, was talking to Bad Cop." Good Cop grinned sheepishly and lowered his hand back down, his face flushed with embarrassment.

_I was serious when I said we need to ask him these questions, Good._

Good Cop ignored him, keeping the forced grin plastered on his face.

"Speaking of him," Bruce said, "is he gonna be out tonight at all?"

"What?"

"I kinda figured you two were a package deal, being literally inseparable and all. Just wanna make sure everyone's on the same page."

"Oh," said Good Cop. "I mean… sort of? We can have different feelings on things, sometimes, but… we wouldn't be here if we both didn't agree on the important things. Like thinking you're hot."

Bruce choked on a sip of water.

_Good Cop,_ Bad Cop said slowly, _I'm going to throw both of us off a bridge._

"You think he's hot, right? So what's the problem?"

_I will do it. Don't test me._

"Bad Cop thinks I'm hot?" Bruce said, wiping his face.

Good Cop laughed. "Well, yeah! I mean, we both do. Is that surprising?"

"Course not, but hearing it out loud, it's like…" Bruce made an unintelligible gesture. "Well, you're not so bad looking yourself. Yourselves? Whatever."

Good Cop's entire face turned red and he picked up the menu to hide his face behind. Upon reading the entrees, Good Cop realized he had no idea what most of them were. "Oh boy," he said quietly, scanning the list of ingredients he had never heard of.

"Hey," Bruce said. "You gonna get that arm fixed? I can't help but notice you don't have it right now."

"Yep," Good Cop said. "Copbots said they'd fix it tomorrow. I mean, today. They said they'd fix it tomorrow yesterday. Which would be today."

"You still talk to the Octan 'bots?"

Good Cop peered at him over the top of the menu. "Yeah? The copbots were our partners, back when…" He scrunched up his face. "…back when we had the job we won't speak of because we're trying to have a good time tonight."

"Right. I didn't think they were, like, _people,_ though."

"Oh no, their A.I. is really advanced," Good Cop said. "I mean, I don't know the details, but they can make decisions for themselves and everything. I mean, they can _now,_ anyway. I don't know."

"Huh," Bruce said. "I haven't heard much anything about them. Guess they're not interested in dealing with my roommate."

"Probably." Good Cop picked up his glass and stared at the water. "I mean, you've got to understand, they learn emotions and stuff from the people around them, and most of them only ever interacted with two humans in their entire life." He paused. "Counting me and Bad as one human, I mean. It's like they're a bunch of… weird kids, I guess, and we were the only ones who realized that."

"So," Bruce said after a _very_ long pause. "Let's change the subject."

_Smooth,_ Bad Cop commented. Good Cop smirked.

"Heh, you look like Bad Cop when you smile like that."

Good Cop immediately dropped the smile from his face. "What are you talking about?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Uh, what I said? I mean, not that I can remember seeing Bad Cop smile, like, ever. Guess you looked more like what I imagine he would look like."

Good Cop blinked, wondering how to respond to that. From what he could tell, Bad Cop wondered, too.

The waiter cleared their throat, surprising both Bruce and Good Cop, who hadn't seen them approach the table. "I'm sorry to interrupt," the waiter said, "but before you order, you might want to be aware that you have guests, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce sucked in air through his teeth. "Really," he said, his voice clearly strained. "Well, thanks for letting us know."

"Guests?" Good Cop asked.

"Code word for paparazzi."

"Oh boy."

"Yeah, basically. Kinda figured it would happen. It's why we're not sitting by any windows." Bruce leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Gonna make getting out of here a _little_ difficult, 'spesh if you don't want to get photographed."

"I definitely do not want to be photographed." Good Cop stared at the menu again, all the items blurring together into one huge super-meal that he was absolutely certain he wouldn't like. It wasn't like he could order a greasy burger here. Why didn't he have any say in what restaurant they went to? Sure, he hadn't asked, but…

"So we might have to get a little creative when it's time to leave, that's all." Bruce picked up his own menu. "You know what you're getting, right?"

"I might need a bit more time," Good Cop said.

The waiter nodded. Good Cop watched him walk away, then leaned forward and whispered to Bruce, "Let's go."

"Go where? Like, leave?"

Good Cop jerked back. "I mean – sorry, I'm sorry, we don't have to –"

"No, no," Bruce said quickly. "It's fine, we can totally leave if you want to. Might be easier to leave now before the guys are expecting us. Is something up?"

"Everything's fine, don't worry, I'm just…" Good Cop's eyes darted around the room. He thought he could see a few people glancing towards them, but that might have just been because Bruce was a celebrity. Most people in Gotham didn't know who Good Cop and Bad Cop were, after all.

"I'm really out of my element," he admitted. "This is all so… _different_ from what I'm used to. And I don't think my taste buds can handle anything on this menu."

"Is that the problem? We can go somewhere nicer."

"Erm, I think that would make things worse."

"Guess this date thing's a bust, huh?"

"What? No!" Good Cop didn't expect his own voice to be that loud, and he winced at the sound. "I mean – I have an idea," he said, lowering his voice and staring down at the table. "It's just… _you_ would have to go out of _your_ element, and that's not fair of me to ask you, and –"

"Dude. Chill. I'll do it."

Good Cop looked up. "Really?"

Bruce smiled at him. "Sure. I mean, dunno what your idea is, but it can't be that bad. Probs way better than sitting here for another hour. What did you have in mind?"

* * *

The guy behind the counter looked at them funny when they walked in. "You're sure dressed up nice," he said. "What's the occasion? A wedding or something?"

"Not exactly," Good Cop said brightly. "Okay, buddy, what do you want?"

"You were right," Bruce said. "I am way out of my element here."

"The chicken wraps are pretty good! I had the taco salad once and it was okay. Most people just go for the burgers."

Bruce looked around at the dingy booths, completely empty apart from them. "I have literally never been inside one of these restaurants in my life."

"Clearly," the employee said. "Are you guys gonna order or what? 'Cause we close in ten minutes, I got like another half hour before I can clock out, I'm running on three hours of sleep, and I will literally murder you if you keep me here late."

"See?" Good Cop said. "This is a new experience for everyone! I've never been threatened getting fast food before."

"I'm serious. We go a single minute past closing and I will hunt you down."

"Does your manager know you threaten the customers?" Bruce asked.

The guy leaned on the counter and looked him dead in the eyes. "My manager went home early and left me to close the place alone," he said. "He never checks the security footage unless money goes missing. Make any trouble and nobody will find your bodies until they open the freezers in the morning."

"Ah. Cool."

"I'm getting you the number one combo," said Good Cop. "Large fries, 'cause you're sharing. Do you want a large drink, too?"

"You get a large meal, you get large fries _and_ drink," the guy said. "If you make my job any harder than it needs to be right now, I will poison your food."

"Okie dokie. Number one combo, large, and two chicken wraps."

"Thank you. Pay up."

Good Cop dug around in his pocket for his wallet. "Whoa, whoa," Bruce said. "What are you doing?"

"Paying?"

"Dude. Obviously I should pay."

"No, no, it's okay! You paid at the other restaurant!"

"You don't have a job or anything. Do you have any, like, income?"

"We found twenty dollars on the ground the other day."

" _Dude._ "

Good Cop slapped a twenty on the counter before Bruce could protest any further. The employee took it, punched the amount paid into the machine, and gave Good Cop back the change. "You're getting it to-go," he said. "Because if I have to wait until you're done eating to close up, I will burn down the building with you inside it."

He walked away, presumably to prepare the food. Good Cop beamed at Bruce, who gave him a confused look.

"You're awfully cheerful for someone who just got hit with four consecutive death threats," said Bruce.

"It's only terrifying when there's any power behind it," Good Cop said. "This poor guy doesn't have the resources to kill us and get away with it."

It didn't take long for their food to be ready. The employee handed him the bag and said simply, "Get out of here."

"Thanks, buddy!"

"You heard me. Scram."

They left and went back to the car. Bruce frowned at his burger as he took it out of the bag. Good Cop paused right before taking a bite of his wrap. "Everything alright, buddy?"

"Yeah," he said, "yeah. Everything alright with you?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

"'Cause you're acting different." Bruce picked at the bun. "I don't know you well enough to know if it's a _good_ different. So I asked."

"Oh," said Good Cop, and he averted his gaze. "I mean… I feel different. I think it's a good different. I dunno. I guess I just like being in control of things."

He felt embarrassed for saying it, and his cheeks flushed. Bruce didn't seem to mind.

"Alright," he said. "Makes sense. Guess I was kinda… not letting you decide stuff back there."

"It's fine. It's not a bad thing or anything."

"Cool. So, where do you want to go after this?"

"Huh?"

"You want to be in control, right?" Bruce said. "Works for me, 'cause I like it when things are a little bit _out_ of my control. Makes it more exciting, y'know?"

"Erm…" Good Cop flushed deeper.

"So," Bruce said with a grin. "Tell me what to do, babes."

Good Cop could barely think. His face must have been entirely red at that point. He stammered unintelligibly all the while Bruce stared at him with that grin on his face –

Bruce leaned on the steering wheel and set off the horn, making them both jump. "Whoops!" said Bruce. "Ignore that. So…"

"I, erm…" Good Cop swallowed. "Maybe we could go somewhere we can sit and eat this food?" he said. "I don't know Gotham well enough to know where, but…"

"Sure. I know some places. We'll have to do some climbing, though."

"I – what?"

* * *

Bruce pulled himself effortlessly onto the top of the building and reached a hand down. He paused. "Huh," he said. "I wondered if you'd be coming out tonight."

Bad Cop took the hand offered him and allowed himself to be pulled up the rest of the way. "Figured I'd 'andle the climbing," he said. "Good was out f'r a while, anyhow."

"Yeah, I spent like, the whole night with him, almost." Bruce grinned, his face lit up by the city lights around them. "Good to get to see both of you."

_Please don't wreck this,_ Good Cop said.

"'m not gonna –" Bad Cop remembered he was talking out loud. "Never mind."

"Dudes, you can totally talk to each other in front of me. I don't care."

"Feels weird."

"That's fair." Bruce went to the edge of the roof and sat down, his legs dangling over the side. "Come sit with me."

The building they were on was not the tallest building in Gotham. A fall from this height probably wouldn't kill them. It was still high enough for Bad Cop to feel a little uneasy at first, even as he sat next to Bruce and took the chicken wrap handed to him.

"Did you get two wraps 'cause you're two –"

"We 'ave th' same stomach. One just isn' enough."

Bad Cop looked out at the skyline. The city was still busy past midnight, cars honking their horns beneath them, a distant police siren wailing, the lights of the buildings around them making the night sky glow. It was nothing like the countryside. Bad Cop couldn't even see any stars.

_You're on a date!_ Good Cop yelled in their mind. _Do date things!_

Bad Cop grimaced and didn't say anything.

"Hey, this isn't bad," Bruce said through a mouthful of burger.

_Hold his hand! Do something!_

"So when y' checked on th' library –"

_No!_

"– quiet – did y' notice anything strange about it?"

"Seemed pretty normal to me," Bruce said. "Same as it always looks."

"An' wha' does that look like?"

"Oh, y'know. Library-like." He took another bite. "Nobody ever really attacks it, y'know? There's like, this understanding that it's where all of us go to research stuff. None of the bad guys wanna destroy it, 'cause like, we all use it."

"Doesn' answer my question."

"Aw, c'mon. It was fine, Bad Cop." Bruce swallowed the remainder of his burger and crumpled up the wrapper. "You didn't ask me on a date to talk about libraries."

"Good asked y' on a date," Bad Cop said. "Not me."

"I'm sure you would stop him if you had any big objections. You two get along pretty well."

Bad Cop thought about what Harvey had said when they had first met. How not everyone got along with their "other half." Good Cop and Bad Cop weren't happy, most of the time, but that was because of depression, not because of their situation. There had been times where they had been the only light in each other's lives. And seeing Good Cop genuinely, honestly happy, because of the date they had gotten with Batman… Bad Cop didn't want to ruin that for him.

He didn't say it out loud, but Good Cop seemed to understand him anyway. _You don't have to apologize, Bad,_ he said. _I… thank you._

"Hey. You okay?"

Bad Cop shook his head. "Wha'?"

Bruce was staring at him. "You spaced out for a bit there. You do that a lot."

"'m fine. Jus' thinking." Bad Cop made an awkward grab for Bruce's hand and dropped his chicken wrap off the side of the building. They watched it fall down and down, landing with a soft _splat_ on the sidewalk below.

"Darn," he muttered.

Bruce laughed. "Least you have two, huh?"

"I guess." Bad Cop took the other wrap out of the bag. "Got it off th' dollar menu, anyway."

"I'll buy you a new one, babes. In the morning. When there's more than one employee and nobody threatens us with death." Bruce leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Or we could go get some popcorn and movie snacks at my place," he continued, as if oblivious to Bad Cop's brain shutting down from the gesture of physical affection. "What d'ya say?"

"I, we, well," Bad Cop stammereed, and stopped.

Bruce peered at his expression. "Huh. You smile a lot like Good Cop. Somehow I figured you'd smile differently. Cool."

Bad Cop tried to hide his dopey grin behind his hand. Bruce chuckled and pulled it away. "Hey, it's a nice smile," he said, still gripping Bad Cop's hand in his own. "You don't gotta hide it."

"Y' jerk," Bad Cop said, but he couldn't get the smile off his face. "Can't eat my food if y'r holding my only hand."

"You really should have gotten that other arm back by now. Guess you broke it pretty good."

"Aw, shuddup."

"Haha! I bet this is a side of you not a lot of people get to see, isn't it?"

"Guess that makes y' special," Bad Cop said.

Bruce smiled. "Thought that was you."

Bad Cop laughed out loud and thought that he understood, just a little, what Good Cop felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the rational part of me: hey, you could just break off the chapter at 2500 or 3000 words, you don't need to go all the way to 4000 –
> 
> every other part of me, furiously writing: IM NOT ENDING THE CHAPTER WITHOUT A KISS


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, late september: I'm not going to be updating any of my fanfics during october  
> me, mid october: haha uhhhhhh
> 
> here's a fanfic update. also I saw the lego ninjago movie and that was nice. glad to know the fanfic idea I came up with before the movie even came out is still valid!
> 
> as always, remember to like, comment, & subscribe if u enjoy

"I should probably get some sleep," Bruce said after the credits had finished and the theater screen changed to the DVD title menu.

"What?" said Bad Cop, with his head on Bruce's shoulder, having paid no attention to the movie. From what he could tell by the snippets he did watch and Bruce's raucous laughter, it had been some sort of romantic comedy, maybe?

"I mean, I know it's not that late, but I gotta be up to have breakfast with Dick." Bruce raised his hands up in a stretch. Bad Cop moved his head from the other man's shoulder and sat up straight. "You can totally spend the night, if you want, and Alfred can drive you home in the morning. Or I can drive you home now."

The drive there had been terrifying enough, according to Good Cop. "I don' mind spending th' night," said Bad Cop. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Bruce stood up from the couch and turned to him. "Hey," he said. "This night was… really great. I'm not so good with all that feelings stuff, you know that, but… I had a good time. Hope you guys did, too."

A smile crept its way onto Bad Cop's face again. He flushed and raised his hand up to hide it. Bruce chuckled. "Guess that's a yes, huh?"

"C'mon, y'r embarrassing me."

"Don't be embarrassed. I like seeing you happy."

Bad Cop's face went beet red – but the grin stayed. He was happy. He was honestly, genuinely happy. And Good Cop was happy too, Bad Cop could feel it. Why had Bad Cop even considered bringing up the overlapping history phenomenon tonight? Good Cop was right, it had been much better to have a night where they didn't think about it. Tried not to, anyway.

"Alright." Bruce picked up the remote and turned off the screen, the private theater's speakers all retreating into the walls with a series of _clunks._ "You can like, hang out downstairs, maybe? Like, the first floor. If you don't go up any stairs you won't be close enough to anyone to wake them up. I can show you one of the empty bedrooms, too, if you wanna sleep. Do you feel like sleeping?"

"Not really," Bad Cop said.

"Alright, so downstairs. Just like, chill for a while. C'mon, I'll walk you down."

Bad Cop honestly did not know what he would do for the rest of the night, alone in Wayne Manor, but they could think of something. Bruce led him to a sitting room and bid him goodnight before going back upstairs. After settling in one of the chairs, Bad Cop reached out to Good Cop and was surprised to feel disgruntlement from him. "Wha's wrong?"

_He gave you a kiss on the cheek and not me!_

Bad cop couldn't help but laugh. "Don' worry, Good, he can make up f'r it next time."

* * *

Alfred looked up from the stovetop as Bruce walked into the kitchen. "I'm surprised to see you up this early, Master Bruce. Is there something wrong?"

"Alfred, am I gay?"

Alfred blinked. "I'm… sorry?"

Bruce closed his eyes briefly. "Am I gay, Alfred? Like, do I like men?"

"That's… not really something I can decide for you, sir."

"'Cause like, I'm pretty sure I like women. In a not-platonic way." Bruce started pacing in small circles in the middle of the kitchen. "And I dated Wyldstyle, which is a super not-gay thing to do."

"Sir –"

"But all we ever did was, like, hold hands? And I held hands with the cops and it was different. Like, really different. I mean, it _felt_ different, anyway."

"Sir, is this about the date you had last night?"

"Yeah! Like, do I call them my boyfriends now? 'Cause we're dating? Are we gonna go on another date? That's how this works, right? With Wyldstyle it was different 'cause we were on the run and everything, but it was also different 'cause I saw Bad Cop smile for the first time and it was like, wow! I like this smile! I like seeing him happy, and I like that I'm the one who made him happy! Do you get what I'm saying, Alfred?"

"It sounds to me, sir," Alfred said, "that you may have a not-entirely-platonic attraction to these men. That doesn't necessarily –"

"So am I gay?"

" _As I was saying,_ it doesn't necessarily prevent you from being attracted to women as well. You could be attracted to both."

Bruce stared at him with a baffled expression. Alfred sighed.

"Sir," he said, "as I said before, I cannot be the one to decide this for you. You must work this out for yourself."

"Yeah, but –"

"I can, however, tell you what I have personally noticed in your behavior, though it may not be accurate." Alfred put a hand on the counter. "I had supported your relationship with Wyldstyle, however, as I told you several times during the relationship, I did not think you were taking it seriously – though, to be fair, you did not take _any_ relationships seriously until quite recently."

He paused, expecting Bruce to interrupt him, but Bruce crossed his arms and said nothing. Alfred nodded and continued:

"You haven't formed many romantic relationships over the course of your life, and while you have expressed some interest in women, you tended to keep an emotional distance between them by not taking it seriously, like you did with Wyldstyle – and the first relationship you began to take seriously is not with a woman."

"What?" said Bruce. "Who's it with, then?"

"I am speaking, sir, of the Joker."

"Uh, what?"

Alfred allowed himself a small smile. "I will admit as to not knowing the details, but you are clearly very proud of the… rivalry you have with him, and you certainly have feelings towards him, do you not?"

There was a long, long pause before Bruce spoke. "I mean… kind of? I mostly just… it's not really a…"

He trailed off. Alfred waited for him to continue.

"Like," he said, "I don't really call it a relationship, 'cause like… it's not _really_ a relationship if you keep saying 'I hate you,' right? Like, a romantic one."

"And do you hate him, sir?"

"I…" Bruce scrunched up his face. "I mean, if I said I _didn't,_ he'd probs get really upset. And like… I guess I kinda like seeing him happy? I know that when he's happy it usually means something bad's gonna happen, but there are times when it doesn't actually mean that, and like… it's nice, finding those times. 'Cept he's a bad guy, y'know? Probs shouldn't…"

He trailed off. It was rare, seeing Bruce so introspective. Alfred refrained from telling him he was proud of him – it wasn't the time just yet. "Sir," he said, "this isn't something I can tell you for certain. But it seems to me that your relationships with men as of late mean much more to you than your previous relationships with women."

Bruce furrowed his brow. "So… I _am_ gay?"

"I don't know, sir. Are you?"

Bruce didn't get a chance to answer before Dick barreled into the kitchen with a grin on his face. "Hi Dad! Hi Grandpa! What'cha talking about?"

"Nothing," Bruce said immediately. "Just, y'know. Talking."

Alfred nodded; this wasn't a matter Bruce had to share with his son before he was ready. "Good morning, Master Dick," he said. "You seem excited today. Is there anything special happening at school?"

"Nope!" Dick was bouncing up and down. "I'm just happy! Is breakfast ready?"

Alfred looked back at the food, which was dangerously close to burning. "Almost. Master Bruce, would you like to fetch our guests?"

"We have guests?" Dick asked, his eyes wide.

Bruce chuckled. "Yep! Good 'n Bad Cop, uh, decided to come for a visit. They're like, somewhere around here. I kinda just let them go wherever. Want to go find them for me?"

"Sure, Dad! I'll be back in a flash!"

"Wrong superhero!" Bruce called out after him as Dick ran out of the kitchen. "Heh. Kids these days."

* * *

Good Cop had gotten his fill of wandering the halls of the manor fairly quickly – it felt too much like he was in someone's house without permission. A situation they'd been in more than once. He ended up finding an outlet, plugging in his charger, and sitting on the floor playing games on his phone for a few hours.

He got a text some time past five in the morning. 

< Hi dear! It's your Ma.  
< Remember you have therapy at noon today, so please be home before then.  
< I hope everything went wonderfully! 8-)

He smiled to himself and was about to text her back when a shout distracted him. "There you are! Hello, Good Cop!"

Good Cop nearly dropped his phone and fumbled with it in his hands for a few moments. When he recovered enough to look up, Dick stood in front of him wearing a red sweater and a grin. "Dad asked me to find you!" he said brightly. "We're having breakfast! Want to come?"

"Of course, buddy!" Good Cop said, standing up and smiling. "I didn't realize it was breakfast time already, but I guess I am pretty hungry."

"Alright! Here, I'll show you the way." He started off at a brisk pace down a hallway. "It gets pretty confusing when you haven't been here a lot," Dick said as they walked, "but I had lots of time to explore when Bruce-Dad adopted me. I've got a whole mental map in my head!"

"Yeah," Good Cop said. "We get lost pretty easily. I guess we don't have a lot of room in our head for maps, not when there's already two of us."

"Haha, yeah! Wait, that was a joke, right?"

Good Cop laughed. "Haha! Yep!"

Dick had a bounce in his step, and Good Cop couldn't help but wonder how the kid could be so happy all the time. Were he and Bad Cop ever like that? Last night, maybe. He smiled wider, thinking back to the date with Bruce.

_Y'know,_ Bad Cop said, _depending on how things go, Dick could be our son, too._

Good Cop's eye twitched. "Moving a little bit too fast there, Bad!"

"Huh?" Dick said. "Am I going too fast? Sorry, Misters, I –"

"No, no, you're fine," Good Cop quickly clarified. "I was talking to Bad Cop."

"Oh, okay! Is it a private conversation? Should I cover my ears?"

"What? No, it's okay. I mean, I wouldn't say anything I didn't want anyone else to hear." Good Cop shrugged. "I can talk in our head, too, I just… usually talk out loud. Pretty much always, actually."

"Really? Cool! Why?"

"Why? Erm…" Good Cop thought about it. "I guess… because it feels more real? Sometimes…"

His breath caught in his throat, but his feet kept moving. A memory overwhelmed him, the voice so loud it almost could've been coming from right in front of them – _I won't be tolerating this charade anymore, _______! You know who you are!_ – and he could almost feel the slap on his face.

The next thing he knew, Dick was walking into another room and announcing, "Dad, Grandpa, we're here!"

Good Cop blinked. The room Dick had led them to appeared to be a dining hall, with a long table and a piano, windows open to the morning sun and old pictures lining the walls. Bruce was sitting at the head of the table, an empty fireplace behind him, while Alfred sat a few chairs down on his left. Bruce glanced over and grinned at them. "Hey, Dick! Hey, cops, how's it going?"

"I have no idea," Good Cop said.

"Uh, okay." Bruce's grin faltered. "You can sit over here if you want."

He gestured at the chair at his right. Good Cop managed a weak smile and walked over, his footsteps sounding unnaturally loud and echoing inside his head. His hands were shaking slightly when he sat down, and he was acutely aware of Alfred looking at him in concern. Bad Cop wordlessly reached out to him. Good Cop reassured him he was alright and pushed him away.

"So," Bruce said. "What time d'ya need to be home by?"

"Oh," Good Cop said. There were scrambled eggs in front of him, he realized. "Erm, before noon. Like, about half an hour before noon, I guess?"

"Cool. I can drop you off after I take Dick to school. You can come along for the ride. Hey, Dick, how about I drive you this time?"

"Sure!" Dick chirped.

"Master Bruce," Alfred said sternly, "if I may, you have two tickets in the mail from your driving last night."

"Are you serious? How did they get those that fast?"

"I believe Miss Gordon dropped them off herself."

"First the taxes, now tickets. I can't believe this. Can you believe this, Good Cop?"

"Erm," said Good Cop.

"Anyway," Bruce said. "Hurry up and eat, 'cause we gotta go soon. You like eggs, right?"

"Eggs are fine," Good Cop said, and he picked up his fork to start eating.

Bruce and Dick had long since finished their food by the time Good Cop was done, and Alfred quickly ushered the three of them towards the car right after he put his plate away. "Here's your lunch, Master Dick."

"Thanks, Grandpa!"

Alfred sat in the driver's seat while Good Cop got in the back with the other two. He didn't feel at all as confident as Bruce had thought he was during the date. What had changed? He blanked for what, two minutes? Now their whole day was ruined.

_Probably something to tell the therapist about,_ Bad Cop commented.

"You know we don't tell her anything," Good Cop mumbled, leaning against the window. If Bruce or Dick heard him, neither of them acknowledged it.

_That's not true, we tell her about some things._

"Not most things."

Bad Cop didn't response. Good Cop interpreted it as "agreement" and sighed, his breath fogging against the glass.

* * *

They dropped Dick off at school without incident; Alfred was a much better driver than Bruce. Bruce rolled down the window to wave to him as he skipped into the school, while Good Cop tried to stay out of sight.

They didn't talk much on the drive to Good Cop and Bad Cop's home, just some meaningless exchanges of words about how Yeah, Dick was a great kid, and Yeah, he definitely seems like it. When they pulled into his parents' driveway, Good Cop said a weak, "Well, bye," and put his hand on the car door handle.

Bruce cleared his throat, stopping him before he opened it. "So," he said. "We should… probably make plans to do that date thing again sometime?"

"Oh," Good Cop said. "Yeah! Erm, yes, definitely."

"Maybe to the library? We can check that out and see if there's anything weird about it, I guess. Or we could go somewhere else entirely. I can't really do much in public, honestly, so there's that."

"That's fine," Good Cop said. "Might be better to plan it later. I'm a little out of it right now."

"Yeah, I can tell." Bruce chuckled. "I'll text you or something. See you later."

"See you," Good Cop said with a small smile.

* * *

Inside, he could tell his Ma was bursting with questions, but she managed to restrain herself pretty well. "Did you have a good time?" was all she asked.

"Of course, Ma," Good Cop said.

"It's not 'of course,' I've certainly been in the situation of expecting a date to go well and having it end up _very_ bad."

"Not with me, I hope," his Pa called from the other room.

"Oh, you know full well some of them were with you."

Good Cop laughed. "Really, Ma, it went great. We got dinner and went back to his house to watch a movie. It was nice."

"You can tell us all about it after your appointment. Do you feel up to driving yourself?"

"Yeah, Ma, we feel fine." That wasn't really a lie. They didn't feel like they were running at one hundred percent, but when did they ever feel that? They were fine enough to drive to therapy.

"Alright, dears. You should get changed into regular clothes."

"Right," said Good Cop, suddenly remembering that they had been wearing their tuxedo for over twelve hours. "We'll be in our room."

* * *

The robots must have came to their house, because their prosthetic arm was lying on their bed with a note reading _SORRY FOR THE DELAY_. Hopefully they didn't freak out their parents too much. Good Cop decided to leave it there; putting it on was an ordeal he didn't want to deal with right then. Their therapist could deal with him coming in with one arm.

Bad Cop's notes were still on the desk. Good Cop paused when he saw them. "Bad, do you want to…?"

_Yeah,_ Bad Cop said, and they switched. Bad Cop sat down at the desk and looked over the notes. He barely recognized some of them as his own handwriting. He didn't remember feeling anything out of the ordinary when he had written them, but then again, he couldn't remember writing all of them. It didn't necessarily mean anything, he told himself.

He gathered up the paper and paused. Lifting up the paperweight, he unfolded the paper and read again the note that neither of them remembered writing: HARVEY DENT.

"Good?" he said out loud.

_What is it?_

"Think I know one thing we should tell th' therapist…"


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys what's up im super depressed

Walking through the door to their therapist's office, Good Cop and Bad Cop instantly forgot everything they planned to talk about.

"No," Good Cop said once they were sitting down across from her, "nothing really happened in the past week."

"Mm-hm," said Mathers, their therapist. "Are you sure?"

Good Cop tensed. The quiet office suddenly seemed too small, claustrophobic, almost. "You didn't see any news reports about us, did you? I mean, erm, not that I think there would be any news reports, haha…"

"I didn't," Mathers said, "but I'm really interested in what you might've done that would've been on the news."

 _We should probably tell her,_ Bad Cop said. _Doesn't have to be everything. She probably doesn't need to know about the date thing._

"I, erm, had dinner with a fairly famous person," Good Cop said. "Famous enough for paparazzi to come after us. That's all."

"Sounds like something did happen since I last saw you. The week before, you hadn't left your house."

Good Cop groaned. "It wasn't that much, we just did some… stuff."

Mathers frowned. "Gilligan," she said, and Good Cop braced himself. "May I say something?"

"Go ahead."

"I really do want to help you," Mathers said, "and it may be hard for you to believe, but it's true. I know you have reasons for being so guarded, and I also know that there's a limited amount that talk therapy can do when you don't open up."

"Sorry," said Good Cop.

"You don't have to be sorry. Like I said, I know you have reasons. It's just my strong recommendation that you see a psychiatrist who can at the very least prescribe medicine to help with your anxiety, if nothing else."

Good Cop flinched. It felt like something was pounding on the inside of his head, but when he tried to feel it, to understand it –

"We can't," he blurted out.

"You've had similar reactions the previous times I've suggested this."

Good Cop didn't answer. He couldn't bring himself to look Mathers in the eye. He stared at the floor instead. Mather's office had an aesthetically pleasing carpet that Good Cop hated for no reason.

"Have you had bad experiences with psychiatrists in the past?"

"We haven't seen a psychiatrist since –" Good Cop had to shut his mouth as a wave of nausea passed through him. Hopefully it wasn't the kind of nausea that meant he would actually throw up, but he wasn't going to risk it. "– ever," he finished. "Since ever."

Mathers didn't look convinced. Good Cop felt a bolt of – some concoction of emotions, anger, fear, something that overwhelmed him to the point that Bad Cop switched in before he knew it.

"I don' think y' like us," Bad Cop said bluntly.

"That's not true," Mathers said, and she almost sounded genuinely offended. "I mean, it may be true that you think that – what I'm trying to say is, if I didn't like you, I wouldn't be your therapist."

"I mean, we're payin' you –"

"I'm not a therapist for the money, Malcolm."

"Well, maybe tha's 'ard t' believe." Bad Cop slouched in his seat and averted his eyes. Good Cop was a ball of distress in the back of his mind, unresponsive to his mental prodding,. "Maybe we've met a lot 'f people who're in it for th' money."

"Like who?"

She didn't say his name, but Bad Cop knew who Mathers was thinking of. "Not him," he said. "'s just… I'unno. We say things we can't really remember."

"You mean you don't remember what you say?"

"No, we don' remember where it came from. Like… wha' we say."

"Hmm." Mathers tapped her pen on her clipboard. "You know, I don't think that's uncommon for people with your condition."

"Thought y' didn' know anyone else with two faces."

"I don't. I'm talking about dissociative identity disorder."

Bad Cop grumbled unintelligibly and slid further down in his seat.

"You've been fairly adverse to that diagnosis. I may not be able to officially diagnose you, but –"

"'s not that," he mumbled. "I mean… 's obvious, right? Jus' weird t' think about if we _didn't_ 'ave it. Would we jus' be one person with two faces?"

"Maybe, but it's impossible to say for sure. I've been asking my colleagues if they know of anyone with two faces, but it doesn't seem to be a common phenomenon."

"Yeah. We know."

"I did find a support group for people with DID, though, if you want to meet –"

"We've met someone with it," Bad Cop interrupted. "I mean, dunno wha' he's diagnosed with, or what 'e _could_ be diagnosed with, but 'e's… not one person." He briefly wondered if he should go into more detail about who, then remembered that Harvey was considered a criminal.

"That's good to hear. Can you –"

Bad Cop's phone started ringing, interrupting Mathers and startling him enough to nearly make him fall out of his chair. "S'ry, thought I'd turned it off," he said, and he took it out and muted it without checking to see who was calling. "Continue," he said, stuffing it back in his pocket.

Mathers smiled. "I just wanted to know more about who you met. If you're not comfortable telling me, that's fine."

"Don' think 'e would be comfortable with that," Bad Cop said.

"Alright. It sounds like things have been positive overall."

His phone was buzzing in his pocket. Bad Cop tried to ignore it and hoped that Mathers wouldn't notice.

She did. "If you want to answer your phone –"

"Don' need to." He really didn't want to be bothered during his appointment, and it was annoying him that someone would try to.

"It's fine with me, that's all I'm saying. You don't have to answer, but if you wanted to make sure it's not an emergency…"

Bad Cop shrugged. "Alright."

He pulled his phone out. He had two missed calls and a number of texts from Wyldstyle.

< hey u there??  
< cops!!!!!!  
< this is legit serious  
< omg ANSWER  
< if u dont pick up im giving neo ur #  
< u DONT want neo to have ur #

Bad Cop texted back:

you gave neo your number? >

< thx for finally answering jerk  
< gotham got messed up  
< neos freaking out  
< who am i talking to rn  
< gc or bc  
< hello??

Bad Cop took a deep breath.

bc >  
give me a sec >

\--

After excusing himself from the appointment, Bad Cop called Wyldstyle the moment he got in his car. Well, his Ma's car. Hopefully she wouldn't mind if he drove it to Gotham.

"What's th' situation?" he asked as soon as she picked up.

"Well," Wyldstyle started, "I'm not there myself, because the buses and trains don't go to Gotham anymore. Like, it's not a stop on their route. So you're gonna need to pick me up. I'm at my house."

"On th' way." He started the car as he spoke. "Y' know if Batman's okay?"

"He won't answer his phone, so no. When we all got kidnapped, they said Harvey's name disappeared from everyone's phone contacts, right? I've still got Batman in my contacts. That's… probably good? Still there in all my pictures."

"Better than th' alternative." Bad Cop ran a red light and promptly got honked at. "Gonna hang up an' drive. Be there in fifteen minutes."

Wyldstyle's new house wasn't too far from Mathers' office. Bad Cop screeched to a stop in front of it, his heart pounding. How fast had he been driving? Didn't matter. He spotted Wyldstyle looking at her phone and honked the horn to alert her he was there.

"Are you freaking out?" Wyldstyle said when she got in the car.

"No," said Bad Cop, slamming the accelerator before she had time to buckle her seatbelt.

"Whoa! Look, it's cool. That's not exactly an inappropriate reaction here."

"I jus' –" Bad Cop gritted his teeth, gripping the steering wheel hard as he swerved through the streets. "Don' like not knowing things. Don' get why this is 'appening. Tell me everything y' know."

"Neo left his hotel room, had breakfast, and was walking around Gotham when everything started flickering, like, what happened at the warehouse and the library, but _everything._ Like there were a bunch of different Gothams, all on top of each other." Wyldstyle checked her phone again. "He texted me freaking out, and I told him to keep texting me so I knew he was okay. He's, uh, still texting. So he's okay, but like, he hasn't moved at all because he's freaking out too much."

"An' Batman 'asn't contacted you at all?"

"He's not answering his phone, he hasn't called me, hasn't texted me, nothing." Wyldstyle grimaced. "Tried to get Neo to go check on him, but like I said, he's freaking out. Not really in any state to be checking up on anyone."

"Got it." Bad Cop pulled onto the highway leading to Gotham. He was still too far away to see anything out of the ordinary, unless he was imagining the changing skyline in the distance? He probably was, but maybe not.

"You're definitely freaking out," Wyldstyle said.

"What's it with you an' freakin' out?"

"It's not me, it's everyone _else_ who's freaking out. Not that this is a bad thing to be freaking out about."

"Right."

"You're going eighty-five miles per hour."

"Right."

"The speed limit here is sixty-five."

"What're they gonna do? Arrest me?" Bad Cop moved to turn on his sirens, then remembered his Ma's car didn't have them, he hadn't driven an actual police car since before Taco Tuesday, and he only had one arm after leaving his prosthetic at home; it wasn't safe to let go of the steering wheel at the speed he was going. "'m fine."

"Please don't get in a car crash," Wyldstyle said when he cut across all three lanes to get to his exit. "You're driving worse than Batman."

The thought of Batman only made him step harder on the gas.

As they got closer and closer, he started to slow down. Cars were pulled over, people getting out to stare at the rapidly fluctuating skyline of Gotham City. Bad Cop hissed under his breath. It was like Wyldstyle had said; different versions of Gotham were rapidly phasing in and out of existence. The closer they got, the more cars were stopped, and eventually they got to a point where the road was closed entirely.

"Oh boy," Wyldstyle said, looking at all the cars stopped in front of them. "Guess we're gonna have to –"

Bad Cop started slamming on the horn with his one hand until the cars squeezed out of the way, giving them enough space to pull to the front. Bad Cop stared at crowd of copbots and police cars, grimaced, and parked the car.

"Wait 'ere," he told Wyldstyle.

"Cool."

Bad Cop got out and advanced towards the copbots. They seemed… visibly intimidated. "Hi," one of them said.

"Yeah, hi," said Bad Cop. "Listen, we need t' get through."

All the robots looked towards another robot, who Bad Cop assumed was the chief. The chief beeped once, an action reminiscent of a human clearing their throat. "Sir," they began.

" _Don't,_ " Bad Cop said sharply. "'m not your boss. Not anymore."

"Then I'm afraid we can't let you pass," the chief copbot said.

"Yeah, well, maybe y' owe us some favors." Bad Cop took a step towards them. Every robot except the chief took a step back. " _'specially_ after wha' Business did to us back then."

The chief beeped several more times. "The road ahead of here is unstable. It's not safe to drive on. The events leading up to and including Taco Tuesday are irrelevant. None of us want to be responsible for hurting you further."

Bad Cop's scribbled eye twitched. "Shut up," he said, and he took out his phone.

He had the number memorized; it was practically muscle memory, even after all these months. He waited for the phone to be answered, and as soon as it was, as soon as it was, as soon as he heard the beginnings of an inhale on the other end, he spoke:

"Y'r robots are in my way. Tell them t' move."

He tossed the phone to the chief without waiting for an answer. They fumbled it, nearly dropped it, and quickly held it up to their face and squeaked, their voice much higher pitched than usual: "Hello, sir?"

Bad Cop crossed his arms and waited for the conversation to be over. The chief copbot made some weak protests – "This road isn't safe, we can't let anyone through!" – and though Bad Cop couldn't hear what – what the person on the other end was saying, but the copbot didn't seem willing to defy him outright. Truth be told, the fact that they were willing to argue at all was a sign of how things had changed.

"Yes, sir," the robot relented. "Should I give the phone back, or –"

"Just hang up," Bad Cop interrupted.

"Okay," they said, and they hung up.

Bad Cop took a deep breath as the chief handed the phone back to him. "So y'r letting us through," he said.

"Bad Cop," said the robot, "I must strongly recommend that you don't do this."

"'m not gonna pretend I know wha' I'm doing," Bad Cop said. "Only that I got t' do it. Don't get in my way."

"Okay. Be careful."

Bad Cop rolled his eyes and walked back to the car.

"What the heck did you do?" Wyldstyle asked as the robots started clearing a path for them.

"Nothin'."

"Seriously. Who did you call back there?"

"No one."

"You didn't –"

"It was no one," Bad Cop said more firmly. "Let's just go."

Wyldstyle dropped the issue. Bad Cop carefully steered the car through the robots while they went back to blocking the road behind them, and hit the accelerator hard as soon as they were clear.

* * *

Closer to Gotham, the road started flickering. It was still drivable, but it was alarming enough for Bad Cop to slow down significantly. The color of the pavement was changing, some cracks appearing and disappearing, and eventually, Wyldstyle said, "This is too much. Let's get out and walk."

"Y' sure?"

"It's probably not _entirely_ rational, but I'd feel safer if the ground disappeared beneath me while I was walking instead of in a car."

Bad Cop thought about it for a moment. "That's prob'ly right. Yeah, let's go."

He parked in a relatively stable section of road and they continued the rest of the way on foot. Wyldstyle took out her phone and informed him that Neo was still sending her texts, that nothing had changed, and he was still too terrified to move. Bad Cop checked his own phone and texted Batman, somewhat awkwardly with only one hand. No answer.

 _Of course it happened right after our date,_ Good Cop said, surprising Bad Cop. He hadn't been aware of him for some time now. _Nothing can ever,_ ever _go right for us. Ever._

"'m sure he's fine," Bad Cop mumbled, sending another text, and several more after that.

The bridge leading into the city proper was flickering in and out, appearing in different iterations and crossing the river in multiple places, none of them lasting for long. Wyldstyle and Bad Cop stopped and evaluated the situation while the bricks beneath them changed rapidly from pavement to grass and back again.

"So if we try to cross and the bridge disappears and reappears beneath us," Wyldstyle said, "will we fall like, halfway and get stuck inside it?"

"Let's not find out," Bad Cop said.

"Man! I really hope there's someone I can, like, blame for this."

Bad Cop gave her an odd look. Wyldstyle winced.

"Don't look at me like that. It's a lot easier to solve your problems when there's someone causing them. I can fight Business, and I can fight the Joker, but I can't fight my landlord, or all the employers who won't hire me." She kicked a rock that disappeared before it hit the ground. "Least I had a reason to be homeless back when I was on the run."

"Y'r apartment didn' explode, did it?"

"Nope. I got evicted 'cause I couldn't pay my rent. Which is, like, my own fault, 'cause when Business offered to give all the Master Builders a monthly check to help us, quote, 'reintegrate into society,' I said _heck_ no, I'm not taking _his_ money." Wyldstyle grimaced. "And I'm sure not gonna ask for it _now._ Bad enough that I'm building a house on what used to be his property."

"Have y' told anyone else about this?"

"No. I dunno why I'm telling you. It's not super relevant to our situation." She stared up at Gotham's flickering skyline. "I just want to punch someone until everything's fixed. In general and also for this specific thing happening. What are we supposed to do if this is like, some force of nature? Just something that's happening, not because anyone caused it to happen, but just for no reason?"

Good Cop perked up suddenly, then retreated again. Bad Cop frowned. "We… might know somethin' about it."

 _No we don't,_ Good Cop said. _You said you didn't believe me._

Bad Cop turned away from Wyldstyle for a moment. "Look, I dunno what 'appened down there with – whoever y' called the Author, but whatever it was – y' were able t' bring Harvey back. Maybe I was wrong."

_If you think I can fix the whole city you're even more wrong._

"Y' don't 'ave t' do it alone, Good."

"Sorry to interrupt," Wyldstyle said, "but I just thought of something."

Bad Cop looked up. "Yeah?"

"So like, we kind of figured that the whole multiple realities thing was based on Harvey's messed up face having multiple origins. Or something. Right?" She continued without waiting for an answer. "But like, what if there's multiple origins for all sorts of things in Gotham? What if _everyone_ has conflicting stories like that?"

Good Cop brightened up immediately. _That's what I think! I mean, that's part of it, I don't actually know…_

Bad Cop considered it for a moment. "Doesn' sound like somethin' that's solved by punching," he said.

"Well, sucks for me, I guess." Wyldstyle cracked a smile. "As long as it's a solvable problem, I can probably deal with it. It is a solvable problem, right?"

"Hope so."

"Real affirming, cops." She shrugged. "Now how do we get into the city?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's UP i have no witty comments today
> 
> quick edit: thought of some comments right after I hit post. I planned for this thing to have 20 chapters, and somehow, that seems to be close to the final number, but I'm really terrible with planning so it might end up being more. probably not less! there's a lot of stuff i want to shove in here & I'm having trouble finding room for it all

"Okay, so Neo is completely unhelpful," Wyldstyle said, putting her phone back in her pocket as they reached the city proper. "Can't get him to do anything but stand in one place and try not to get hit by cars. Apparently Gotham doesn't know if he's on the sidewalk or the street."

"Ask if 'e can see Wayne Manor," Bad Cop said.

"I mean, his hotel's pretty far away from Batman's place, and he didn't get very far before everything freaked out on him. Much like you're freaking out on me."

"I'm not –"

"It's fine, cops. I'm honestly more annoyed by you trying to deny it than I am by you freaking out."

Bad Cop grumbled, but didn't protest further.

They were on what was probably a busy street, most of the time. Bad Cop could see streetlights and cars flickering in and out in varying orientations. Now that they were in the midst of it, the phenomenon was disorienting, and it was hard to stay as calm as he was. Which wasn't much.

"So," Wyldstyle said. "Your plan –"

"Good Cop's plan."

"Whatever, the plan is to just… decide what's real?"

Bad Cop shrugged. "Worked for 'arvey."

"Yeah, but Harvey was like… one person. I mean, you know, one body. This is an entire city. And we don't actually know if it worked."

"Huh?"

Wyldstyle tapped her foot. "If it worked, and Harvey Dent has a consistent history, or backstory, whatever… wouldn't he be unaffected by whatever's going on now? According to our theory?"

"Maybe? Whatever this is, could be overpowerin' wha' we did."

"So basically we have no idea what's going on."

 _Did we ever suggest otherwise?_ Good Cop said.

"We'll figure it out," said Bad Cop. "But… if 'arvey was unaffected, we might want t' start by findin' him."

"Got it," said Wyldstyle. "Though I dunno if we'll be able to find anyone with the city like this."

"Right." Bad Cop squinted at the flickering surroundings. "Alright… 's prob'ly a street, so… Good Cop?"

_What do you expect me to do?!_

"Dunno. Whatever y' did before."

_I don't know if what we did before will work! Last time, we chose what was real out of a limited number of possibilities – we can't rebuild Gotham if we don't know anything about it!_

Bad Cop frowned. "'s not like we don't know anything…"

But Good Cop had a point: they really didn't know much about Gotham. Without even knowing the possibilities, could they really put the city back together?

"We'll be fine," Bad Cop said. "Let's go."

"We're just gonna walk into this mess and hope we find Harvey." Wyldstyle raised an eyebrow. "You sure this is a good idea?"

"Wha' other options do we 'ave?"

"Man, I _really_ wanna punch something. Can punching be an option?"

"Hang on…"

Was it his imagination? He could see grass in the distance, stable enough that it lasted as the landscape changed around it. Between buildings appearing and disappearing, there were hints of green, a bench, paved pathways… Bad Cop remembered the park he had gone to, their first time going to Gotham alone, when Harvey had approached him and taken him to the warehouse where this mess had all started.

"I think I know where t' go," he said. "C'mon."

* * *

The park was an island of stability in the ever-changing city. Bad Cop hadn't realized how on-edge he was until he took a step onto solid ground and breathed a sigh of relief when it didn't shift beneath his feet. Wyldstyle was similarly relieved, to the point of letting herself fall face-down in the grass.

Bad Cop looked at her in alarm. "Are you – ?"

"I'm fine," she mumbled. "Let me have this."

"Alright. Tell me when y'r ready t' go."

"Oh boy, I can't wait to go back out into that mess. Can't we like, stop here for a while?"

"F'r all we know, more time we waste, th' worse it'll get," Bad Cop said. "Besides, might not be as bad as the walk here."

Wyldstyle looked up at him, then over to where he was pointing. The path to the warehouse was obvious; it was the only streets not changing. "Alright," she said. "I can deal with that. Let's go, then."

The closer they got, the more doubt Bad Cop felt. What if they got there and Harvey wasn't there? Then they'd be stuck without any idea of what to do or where to go next. It was the only lead they had. Good Cop was similarly buzzing with anxiety in the back of his mind.

No one was outside the warehouse. Bad Cop paused. Wyldstyle didn't. "The heck are you waiting for?" she said, walking past him and pushing open the door. "Hey! Anyone home?"

"You!"

Wyldstyle blocked the punch and stepped to the side, letting Harvey stumble out the door beside her. He looked upat Bad Cop, his split face twisted in fury, and would've lunged forward if Wyldstyle hadn't restrained him.

"Dude!" she shouted. "Calm down!"

"No!" Harvey yelled. "This is your fault, I know it!"

"What, _this?_ " Bad Cop gestured at the unstable city around them. "We're tryin' t' fix this!"

"Oh, sure," Harvey said. "Because you did such a great job fixing us, right?"

"I… what?"

Harvey groaned. "You don't even know! I can't believe this! And Harvey had to go and _like_ you!"

So this wasn't Harvey? It occurred to Bad Cop suddenly that he hadn't always been clear on which one of them they had spoken to, the times that they talked. Harvey had been the one to introduce himself, so was this Two-Face?

"So maybe you could explain it to us, instead of, like, immediately going nuts," Wyldstyle said, keeping a tight grip on him.

"What's there to explain?"

Wyldstyle and Bad Cop looked at each other in exasperation.

"Okay, fine," Two-Face said. "Look, the thing that's going on right now? It's not new. It's always been happening, you guys just didn't notice."

"Think I'd notice somethin' like this," Bad Cop said.

"No, you wouldn't have – because _you're_ from a world where everyone has the same history. It's not like –" Two-Face waved his left hand in an incomprehensible gesture. "– look, we weren't aware of it until suddenly, we realized that we used to have multiple stories of how my face got, y'know, like this, and that _now_ we only have _one._ And then we started noticing that everyone _else_ had these different histories, different backstories – and none of them noticed, either!"

"So everyone's like this?" Wyldstyle said. "Even, y'know, Batman?"

"Batman's a weird case, 'cause he's got that Master Builder stuff going on." Two-Face scrunched up his face. "Like, Gotham doesn't have any Master Builders, except for Batman, so it's like… he shares a history with the rest of the Master Builders, so he can interact with them."

"When did this start?" Bad Cop asked.

"I told you, it's been like this forever! It only started going weird when you showed up."

"Then why wasn't it like this always?" Wyldstyle said. "Like, when we first got here, it was pretty… stable, I guess?"

Two-Face rolled his eyes. "It only looked like that you know Batman. You were going in with ideas of what the history should be like, based on what Batman told you, so it looked stable for a little while. Same with anyone else who's not from Gotham. But the city can't stay like that forever! It's not natural!"

"So where is Batman?" Bad Cop asked.

"How the heck am I supposed to know? Guess he'd be somewhere around here. Batman's like, the one constant in all the histories, so he'd probably still look stable to you guys."

Bad Cop checked his phone. Still no response to any of his texts.

"So what're we supposed to do?" Wyldstyle said. "'Cause it sounds like you're telling us that none of this can be fixed."

"I'm trying to tell you that it doesn't _need_ fixing! The way the city is now? Exactly the way it should be. We don't need anyone outside Gotham messing it up!"

Two-Face glared at them. Bad Cop looked up from his phone in the middle of attempting to text Batman again. "So basically," he said, "y' want t' be isolated from th' rest of th' worlds, without anyone coming in t' mess up your stuff."

"That's a super weird way of putting it," Two-Face said. "It's almost like you've had personal experience with that kind of situation or something?"

"Dude, shut up," said Wyldstyle.

"What? We literally know nothing about these guys, other than they used to be cops and their old boss erased one of their faces. That's literally all we know. I'm just making some educated guesses here –"

"Jus' saying," said Bad Cop, "there was a reason th' walls were taken down."

"Whatever," said Two-Face. "Point is – whatever you did? Back when the Joker and everyone else kidnapped you? I need you to undo it. Put us back with the rest of everyone else."

"Hang on," said Wyldstyle. "How do we know this is even a good thing? For all we know, the city being like this could be really, really bad."

"I don't care. Just put us back."

 _I'm not sure we can,_ Good Cop said, his voice tinged with anxiety. _What would we do?_ Un _decide his backstory? I didn't think…_

"I don' want to make any decisions jus' yet," Bad Cop said. "Y' said Batman should still be here, right?"

"Look, we're not asking for much –"

"Batman knows Gotham more than we do," Bad Cop continued, "I want t' talk t' him first."

"Good luck," Two-Face said. "You're not getting anywhere with the city like this."

"We've been to Wayne Manor before," Wyldstyle said. "You think it might be stable like this place is?"

Bad Cop frowned. "Could be. Doesn' explain why 'e's not answerin' my texts, but…"

"Good enough," she said, and let go of Two-Face. "Do anything funny and I'll beat you up," she said to him, before turning away and ripping off a plate from the wall of the warehouse.

Two-Face stumbled forward, then turned back to watch her in alarm as she started grabbing more bricks from the area around them. Bad Cop felt a twinge of – of _something,_ not that he could place it. Something about watching Wyldstyle using her Master Builder skills made him feel – he didn't know what emotion, but it wasn't good, that was certain.

It didn't take long for Wyldstyle to finish her construction and start the engine. The hovercraft rumbled to life and lifted off the ground. "Hop in!" she yelled down to Bad Cop. "There's no way we'll get to Wayne Manor on foot!"

"Right," said Bad Cop, and he made an awkward jump onto the side of the craft, climbing up to sit next to Wyldstyle. Just as he sat down, he heard another _thump_ against the side and looked down to see Two-Face climbing up.

"Dude!" Wyldstyle shouted. "You weren't invited!"

"Don't care," Two-Face said, sitting behind them. "We want this resolved as much as you do."

"That third seat was for someone else, jerk!"

"Who?" Bad Cop asked.

Wyldstyle looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "Uh, Neo? Duh? Did you think we were gonna leave him in this mess?"

"…we might've forgotten about 'im."

"Probably because he's blowing up my phone, not yours." Wyldstyle rolled her eyes. "Alright, whatever, we'll find a way to fit him in. Let's just get a move on."

* * *

They found Neo right in the middle of the mess that was Gotham. After a minute of futzing around and trying to pilot the hovercraft so it wouldn't be in the way of any of the buildings that were rapidly phasing in and out, Wyldstyle said out loud, "Screw it," and just dove it down right where Neo was waving at them. "Hey! Get in!"

Neo hesitated. "How? It's not like, on the ground, so –"

"Can't you jump?"

"Not very well!"

Bad Cop had to climb down and hoist him up, where Neo squeezed himself in the back seat and made a poor attempt to hide how much Two-Face's scarred side unnerved him. "Hey, total stranger," he said, plastering on a clearly fake smile. "I'm Neo from Ninjago. Aren't you, like, a bad guy or something?"

Two-Face rolled his eyes and ignored him.

"That's Wayne Manor, right?" Wyldstyle said, flying the hovercraft back up above the city. Bad Cop squinted into the distance. Yep, that was the island, and yep, that was Wayne Manor. It looked solid. Bad Cop took out his phone again and checked for texts. Still nothing.

"Let's go," he said.

"Yeah, I'm already flying there."

"Right."

"Try not to freak out too much."

Bad Cop rolled his eyes. "We'll do our best."

The manor didn't change in the time it took them to fly over there. It stayed the same, solid, stable. It looked the same as Bad Cop remembered it. Good Cop mentally prodded him, and Bad Cop ceded control to let Good Cop switch out.

Good Cop immediately made the mistake of looking back at the city, which was little more than flickering junk noise from a television screen. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to throw up.

"Doing alright?" Wyldstyle asked.

"Yeah!" Good Cop squeaked. "Totally fine!" He gripped the side of the craft and opened his eyes again, this time staring at the approaching manor. "I'll be way better once we find Batman!"

"Huh," said Neo. "I guess Bruce Wayne and Batman are definitely roommates?"

"It's common knowledge," Two-Face said. "Joker announced it on live television."

"That seems… sort of invasive?"

"Yeah, well, when you up and abandon all the other bad guys who were willing to work with you and summon a bunch of monsters of mass destruction to destroy a city, invading Batman's privacy doesn't seem so bad." Two-Face snorted and sank down in his seat. "'Rogue losers dressed in cosplay…' Like I got a choice about my suit, it got literally melted to my skin."

"Take it you had some bad experiences with Joker, huh?" Wyldstyle said.

"Never liked him. Like him even less after that whole Phantom Zone thing."

Good Cop made a mental note to ask Batman about the "Phantom Zone thing," whatever that was, after everything had calmed down a little bit.

Wyldstyle landed the hovercraft in front of Wayne Manor. The four of them climbed out, and Wyldstyle went up and rang the doorbell. She rapped hard on the door for good measure. "Hey!" she shouted, when both the doorbell and knocking did not provide instantaneous results. "Anyone there? We have a situation!"

The door opened. Alfred stood in the gap and scrutinized them for a few moments. Good Cop grinned and waved at him, then realized he was mostly staring at the wanted criminal who had tagged along with them.

"Okay," Good Cop said. "Erm, we can explain."

"The city's gone completely off the rails and we need to talk to Batman," Wyldstyle said.

"My name's Neo," Neo said unhelpfully.

"Very well," said Alfred, still regarding them with suspicion. "I'll let him know you're here."

He then shut the door.

Harvey, Neo, Wyldstyle, and Good Cop all waited in an awkward silence. The minutes dragged on and on, until finally, the door opened and Batman appeared, wearing only a bathrobe and somehow rubbing his eyes through his cowl.

"Alright," he said. "I'm here. What's up?"

Relief flooded his body. "Thank _gosh_ you're alright," Good Cop started, but was drowned out by the other three all speaking at once.

"Gotham got messed up and they need to put us back –"

"I was just walking around and the city freaked out and I freaked out –"

"Something's seriously wrong with Gotham, and we need you –"

Batman raised a hand to stop them. "Yeah, yeah, okay. I don't want to be standing outside in my underwear, so can we talk about this inside? Don't mess with any of Bruce Wayne's stuff," he added to Two-Face.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Two-Face said. "There's bigger issues, anyhow."

"Whatever. You're hardly the worst bad guy to be in here."

Batman opened the door wider, making room for the four of them to file inside. Good Cop gave him a confused look, but Batman's expression was unreadable. He almost looked bored. Seeing him alive and stable didn't make Good Cop feel better like he thought it would.

He pushed his doubts down. They could at least make progress now, couldn't they? Whether it was fixing Gotham or leaving it alone – Batman would know what to do.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to finish this by the new year but uhhh that didn't happen lmao
> 
> oh well! we're in the home stretch! there's like 2-3 more chapters left I think? idk. it kind of went in a weird direction. but god I want to finish this so darn bad and we're so close!!
> 
> remember to like comment and subscribe if u enjoy. thanks for reading

They followed Batman to the main hall, where they found the Joker sprawled on his back over the piano. "What's up, Batdude," he said without sitting up. Neo screamed.

"So when you said I wasn't the worst bad guy to be here –" Two-Face began. Batman cut him off with a loud groan.

"The heck are you doing here!" he said loudly. "You're super not supposed to be here, not after last time!"

"How is he even here at all?!" Good Cop yelped.

"I don't care," Wyldstyle said. "Now I get to punch someone!"

"Which last time was I here again?" the Joker said in a bored tone of voice. "'Cause my memory's gone a bit funny lately. Dunno when the last time I was here was."

"Doesn't matter," Batman said, "'cause you're not supposed to be here now! Wyldstyle, don't punch him."

"You just said he wasn't supposed to be here!" said Wyldstyle, and she stopped in the middle of advancing towards the Joker. "Which mean's he's totally good to punch, right?"

"Anyway," the Joker said, "I'm not here for you, Batman. I'm here for your little cop-buddies."

Good Cop swallowed hard and switched to Bad Cop, who set his mouth in a hard line and crossed his arms. "What do y' want with us?" he asked.

The Joker slipped off the piano onto his feet. He looked uncharacteristically serious. "Oh, I don't know. We could talk about the junk going on with Gotham City, or we could talk about the junk you did working for Lord Business. What do you think, _Whitney?_ "

And just like that, Good Cop and Bad Cop's mind went blank.

* * *

"Who the heck is Whitney?" Batman said.

"Can I punch him now?" Wyldstyle asked.

Bad Cop stood there, staring at the Joker with his scribbled mouth slightly open. The Joker rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, you can't be that surprised. I did a lot of research to find out who you were. Sure, some of the documents were too difficult to get ahold of, but I did manage to get the record of your name change. 'Whitney Doe' to 'Gilligan Malcolm Cop.'"

"That is super invasive!" said Wyldstyle. "You really do like to invade people's privacy! Why'd you even want to know their birth name, anyway?"

"Hey," Two-Face said. "You alright?"

He prodded Bad Cop in the back. Bad Cop winced down and raised his arms to cover his head. The sunglasses drawn on his face were distorted, the lines twisted around in a way that made his eyes look like a single scribbly blob.

"Oh, whoa!" Wyldstyle exclaimed. "What did you do?! Bad Cop? Are you okay?"

Bad Cop didn't answer. Batman approached him cautiously. "Dudes," he said. "Dudes. What's going on?"

He reached out and put a hand on Bad Cop's shoulder. Bad Cop flinched again, but didn't move away.

"Okay," the Joker said, "I actually have no idea what just happened. Uh, sorry about that name thing, I did _not_ think you'd have that bad of a reac –"

Wyldstyle punched him in the mouth. The Joker fell backwards against the piano. "I probably deserved that," he said, rubbing his jaw.

Bad Cop was taking deep breaths, while Batman slowly rubbed his back. "Hey," Batman said. "It's fine. It's just your old name. Kinda creepy that he was able to know it, but – okay, that probably doesn't help. How you doing?"

"Okay," said Bad Cop, in a voice that was unmistakably _not_ Bad Cop's voice.

Batman stopped rubbing his back. "Uh, you sure? 'Cause you sound way different all of a sudden."

"I'm going to punch you again," Wyldstyle said to the Joker.

"Look, I don't know what I – ow!"

"And I'm going to keep punching you," she continued, bringing her fist back again, "until something changes. Because punching and kicking people is all I'm good at!" She punched him again. "Which was probably why Vitruvius, that stupid jerk, had our worst enemy at the time be the Special over me!" She punched him _again._ "I'm not good at anything I can't punch my way out of! I'm not –" And again. "– good –" And again. "– enough!"

The Joker rolled out of the way of the last punch. "Listen, lady, I get that you have issues, and I totally relate to having issues, but can you work them out on something or someone who's not me?"

"I wasn't good enough, either," Not-Bad Cop said, without slurring his words like Bad Cop did. "Everyone told me to be _good_ and – there wasn't enough left of me."

Everyone stared at him. He flinched. "I think?" he added in a shaky voice.

"Hang on," said Two-Face. "Who are you, again?"

"Erm," he said, in the way that Good Cop says it, but his voice garbled and _different._ "I'm Whitney, I think."

"Oh my gosh I broke them," the Joker said.

"Punch him again, Wyldstyle," said Batman. "Not you, obviously," he added quickly when Whitney flinched. "I mean the Joker."

"I'd love to," said Wyldstyle, "but now that the initial moment is over, I honestly don't think that's gonna solve any of this."

"This is all just a distraction," Two-Face said. "The real issue is that you need to be us back with the rest of Gotham!"

"What are you even talking about?" Batman said. "We're in Gotham right now."

Wyldstyle lost what little remaining cool she had. "That's the problem!" she shouted. "Gotham's gone all weird! The streets and buildings keep changing, like it can't decide which one's real, like all these realities are overlapping, and it's gone from the bus routes and it's gone from maps, and –" She gestured furiously at the Joker. "I have no idea why he's here, or Alfred, when basically everyone else is gone! Where's Barbara? Where's your kid? Why didn't you answer any of the cops' texts? We need answers!"

Batman opened his mouth, kept it open for a moment, then winced and put a hand to his head. "Did you do something just now?" he asked. "'Cause that made my head hurt for some reason."

"Mine too," said the Joker, "except I'm not gonna whine about it 'cause I'm not a baby.

"Hey –"

"The same thing happened to Barbara," Wyldstyle said. "Every Gotham citizen we tell about this thing gets an awful headache, for some reason. Dunno why."

"I – well, maybe me, I'm not sure who we were at the time –" Two-Face grimaced. "Back at the warehouse? We got a headache, too. Didn't get it this time, though."

"Okay," Batman said. "I'm starting to think there's actually a problem here."

Wyldstyle rolled her eyes. "Well, duh."

"It's the cops' faults, right?" the Joker said. "'Cause I kind of placed all my bets on it being the cops' faults. Figuratively. I didn't actually make more than one bet."

"But it's not just them!" Neo said. Everyone else turned to look at him. He winced. "Uh, sorry –"

"No, it's fine," said Wyldstyle. "You can talk. Can you… elaborate?"

Neo nodded and continued, albeit hesitantly. "I mean, I've been on vacation here for like, two weeks now? And like, it wasn't always that visible, just stuff that I thought I was imagining – but it's been going on for two weeks at _least._ "

"Gotham's not a popular tourist destination," said Wyldstyle. "Could be that this has been happening since the walls went down and let people outside Gotham come in, and it's only just now gotten this bad."

"Bad from _your_ perspective," Two-Face said.

While they were talking, Whitney went and sat down on a chair. Batman looked at him in concern. "Hey. Need anything?"

"No," he said. "I just want to sit. Sorry."

"That's cool. Let me know if you do need anything."

"Okay!" the Joker said loudly. "So it's not the cops' fault! Doesn't explain what's going _on._ Everyone and every _thing_ inside Gotham City's gone and forgotten everything going on _outside_ Gotham, and I only found out in the middle of digging up the cops' records. Suddenly I couldn't connect to any non-Gotham websites."

"I should punch you again," Wyldstyle said. "'Cause that was a pretty serious invasion of privacy you did there."

"I think you've punched me enough."

"Just a second," Batman said, and he turned and started walking away.

"Hey!" Wyldstyle shouted. "Where're you going?"

"I'm getting the others. Gonna see what they think about this."

He left without any further comment. The room went silent.

Wyldstyle sighed and went to where Whitney was sitting. When she sat down in the chair next to him, he flinched. "Sorry," said Wyldstyle. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine," said Whitney.

"Are you doing alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Wyldstyle frowned. "What do you know about what's going on? Is it like, everything? Or only some things? 'Cause I feel like you've been pretty confused."

"I don't know much. We stopped keeping a notebook, and I think I'm the only one who ever writes things down anymore." Whitney shifted awkwardly in his seat. "I remember we met Harvey, but I wasn't the one talking, then, I don't think. I just remember it."

Two-Face snorted. Wyldstyle turned to glare at him, then turned back to Whitney. "If you want, you can stay out of this," she said. "'Specially if you don't remember anything about this whole… Gotham situation. Like, it's not your fault or anything, and you seem kinda stressed out just being here."

"It's okay. I'm just like this."

"Alright," said Wyldstyle, and couldn't find anything else to respond with. Instead, she leaned back in the chair and sighed. "Man, what is taking Batman so long?" she said.

"I'm back," Batman said at that moment, walking back into the room. "Got the others."

Dick barreled into the room doing cartwheels. "Hi, Misters! Hi, other people I don't know –" He skidded to a stop. "Hey! Wait a second! I do know you guys, and you aren't supposed to be here!"

He pointed at Two-Face and the Joker. "It's fine, Dick," Batman said. "Everything's under control."

Barbara walked in, eyebrows. "The Joker is in your living room and you're saying you've got everything under control? Oh, hey, Wyldstyle, cops."

"Best to leave it be, Miss Gordon," Alfred said, bringing up the rear. "I do believe Batman has a reason for allowing them to stay."

"Alright," said Batman, "how 'bout you explain everything from the beginning, and then we'll all figure out what to do."

"You sure?" said Wyldstyle. "I mean, there's the whole headache thing…"

"Is this about the warehouse?" Barbara asked. "'Cause I'm sorry I didn't really get to work with you on that after our first meeting, I just had some work stuff. You know how it is with jobs."

"Yep!" Wyldstyle grinned. "I definitely know about job stuff, and I've definitely had one before."

"That's, uh, a weird thing to clarify, but okay."

"Why would headaches be a problem?" Dick asked.

"Long story." Wyldstyle stood up and glanced at Whitney before moving closer towards the others. "I'll start from the beginning…"

* * *

It took a long time, and many breaks to let headaches subside, before Wyldstyle was able to finish telling the story, with help from Neo and Two-Face.

"That's super weird," said Barbara. "Like, you said this started today? I was at work for most of the day, and everything seemed normal then."

"Well, it's super _not_ normal outside," Wyldstyle said. "Funny thing is, the warehouse is like, one of the only places that _is_ normal. Everything else's gone all weird."

"It sounds really bad," Dick said. "What can we do to fix it?"

"It doesn't need to be fixed!" Two-Face snapped. "This is normal for Gotham! The only thing that needs to be fixed is us!" He paused. "As in, me and Harvey. You guys seem fine."

"It definitely seems pretty bad," said Barbara. "Like… I don't actually think this is normal for cities? Wyldstyle, you're a Master Builder, right? Have you ever seen anything like this?"

Wyldstyle shook her head. "Nope, never. This is totally new for me. I mean, I was here before the walls came down, and I didn't notice anything like this back then."

"So this might not, in fact, be normal for Gotham," Alfred said. "But if that's true, how can it be fixed?"

"We've had some luck with just…" Wyldstyle shrugged. "Well, Good Cop just decided what was real, in his head, and it stabilized things. That's what happened with the warehouse, and with, uh, Two-Face."

"I'm not happy about it, by the way," Two-Face said.

"Yeah, we kind of got that."

"So what do we do?" Dick asked. "We have to do something, right?"

"We're definitely not doing nothing, kiddo," Batman said.

"We gotta stabilize the city again," Wyldstyle said. "Get everyone's backstory consistent, and put things back to the way they were."

"No," said Two-Face, "we gotta put me back to how I was before, and let the rest of the city do it's thing! So what if nobody from outside Gotham can come in anymore? We're fine the way we are! Might even stop junk like the Phantom Zone thing from happening again."

"I thought we agreed to pretend that didn't happen," said the Joker.

"Oh, it definitely happened, and we're not letting you forget anytime soon."

Something clicked in Wyldstyle's head.

"Wait," she said. "What was the Phantom Zone thing?"

"Nothing," Batman and the Joker said in unison.

Barbara rolled her eyes. "City almost got destroyed because the Joker summoned a bunch of evil villains from a giant space jail. It was Batman's fault, too."

"Come on, Babs –"

"If you hadn't stolen that projector and sent Joker there –"

"Yeah," the Joker said, "he played right into my hands there. A stroke of genius, if I do say so myself."

Wyldstyle raised a hand to stop their argument. "And you all remember it the same way?"

There was a long pause.

"We were in prison for most of it," Two-Face said. "But hey, you might be onto something."

"Great! So –"

"Too bad I don't care!" Two-Face grimaced. "All I want is to go back to the way things actually were, not to how you think they were!"

Wyldstyle glared at him. "But if the Phantom Zone thing happened in the same way for everyone – that could be how Gotham is supposed to be, not all messed up like you keep saying it should be! Batman, what do you think?"

Batman sucked in air through his teeth and didn't say anything.

"Padre?" Dick said. "Are you alright?"

"'Course I am," Batman said. "I'm just, y'know… thinking."

"The cops specifically wanted to talk to you before making any decisions," Wyldstyle said. "You know Gotham better than we do. You might know Gotham better than anyone else in the city. Based on all this – the changing histories, whatever the Phantom Zone thing was, no one outside Gotham being able to come in – do you think we should do?"

Batman glanced at Whitney, who was still sitting in the same spot, tapping on his phone. "What do the cops think?"

"They think we should ask you before making any decisions. I just told you that. And Whitney's staying out of this right now."

Whitney glanced up at his name, then back down at his phone.

Batman groaned. "Fine. What do you think?"

Wyldstyle raised an eyebrow. "I think we should decide on a coherent backstory for everyone and stabilize the city."

"Alright. What do you think?"

"I've been repeating myself for the past fifteen minutes," said Two-Face.

"Got it." Batman turned to Dick, Barbara, and Alfred. "What about you? You're part of Gotham too."

The three of them glanced at each other. Alfred spoke first.

"It's up to you, sir," he said. "I've never had much interaction outside of Gotham. Certainly, something will be lost if we close our doors, but the idea of deciding for other people – for everyone in Gotham – what their pasts are… I will say that doesn't sit right with me."

"I mean, I'm pretty against isolating ourselves," Barbara said. "Reminds me too much of what Business did. The walls did come down for a reason – to let everyone from different cities and worlds interact with each other and learn together. I think that's the only way we can progress as a society."

"I don't really know," said Dick. "I've never left Gotham, not really. I don't think dropping people off at their house counts. Um, I think it would be sad if we had to say goodbye to everyone not in Gotham, so… maybe we don't have to do that?"

"Alright," Two-Face said. "That's two for _actually_ fixing it, and two for messing it up even worse."

"Wait, what about my vote?" Wyldstyle said.

"You're not from Gotham, you don't count."

Batman shrugged and turned to the Joker. "Guess you're the tiebreaker," he said.

"I'm sorry, what?" said the Joker. "You want to know my opinion?"

"Yeah," said Batman. "Do you not live in Gotham?"

"My vote is I don't care."

"Seriously?"

The Joker rolled his eyes. "I don't care if no one can get into or leave Gotham anymore. Sure, yeah, you won't get to see your Master Builder friends – but I don't care about all that. So if you're asking my opinion? You might as well just leave things the way they are."

Batman frowned. "So… that's three to two."

"Oh, come on!" Wyldstyle shouted. "You're don't seriously want to close yourself off forever!"

"We voted, lady!" Two-Face said. "So –"

Wyldstyle punched him in the face.

Batman's phone buzzed. "Oh hey," he said, taking it out of his pocket while Two-Face kicked Wyldstyle's legs out from underneath her and they scuffled on the ground. "I'm getting the texts you guys sent. Wonder why it took so long."

He scrolled through a couple texts from Wyldstyle and paused.

< it's bc  
< just checking in  
< gotham's gone weird and we want to know if you're alright  
< text back when you get this

< bc again  
< are you alright  
< gc's worried  
< ok fine i'm worried  
< text back already

< if you're seeing these and not texting back we're breaking up with you  
< not that i know if we're even dating  
< never really confirmed that  
< might be nice if we were  
< just text back and we can talk about it

< bc here  
< you are the worst person i've ever met  
< text back you stupid jerk

"Hey, Bats, stop staring at your phone."

Batman looked up. The Joker had moved, and was now standing in front of him with his arms crossed. Batman leaned his head to peer behind him at where Whitney was sitting, but he could only see the back of the chair.

"What's the deal? You gonna settle this or what?"

"Why so serious?" Batman said.

"What – hey, that's my line!"

Batman put his phone away. "Y'know," he said, "I actually like some of the people outside Gotham. It'd kind of suck to not see them anymore. Let's fix Gotham."

The Joker raised an eyebrow. From the floor, Two-Face yelled, "That's the opposite of fixing it!" before Wyldstyle punched him again.

"Awesome!" said Dick. "But how do we do that?"

"I've got some ideas," said Batman, "and as you know, I always have good ideas."

"That's objectively false," Barbara said. "I'd go as far to say that at least half of your ideas are bad."

"Well, they _work,_ so –"

"Hey, erm, guys?"

They all turned to look at the source of the voice. Good Cop was standing by the chair he had been sitting in, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," he said, "but I, erm, don't remember most of the last…" He checked his phone. "Twenty minutes? I think? What's going on?"

"Just the guy I wanted to see," Batman said, pushing the Joker out of the way. "You've got ideas on how to fix this, right?"

"What?"

"Great, 'cause I wanna hear them. Dunno if there's a time limit or anything, but let's get this fixed sooner rather than later."

Good Cop blinked a few times before taking a deep breath. "Okay," he said, sounding more confident, but still with a tinge of nervousness in his voice. "We'll need a pen, lots of paper, and every old newspaper you can find."


End file.
